


One Last Threat

by TheSketcherLass



Series: SAVE, too, is an acronym [1]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Post-Pacifist Route, References to No Mercy Route
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-14
Updated: 2016-02-10
Packaged: 2018-05-13 22:35:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 35,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5719555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSketcherLass/pseuds/TheSketcherLass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You're a problem and eventually someone is going to solve you.</p><p>Sans and Alphys find a way to keep Chara and Flowey from resetting. The solution is far less pleasant than first anticipated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chara Mia

**Author's Note:**

> The opening act to the resurrection "AU"/post-canon storyline I've been working on for the last few months. What started as an experiment in writing a Chara who was simultaneously every bit the remorseless demon they claim to be and a human being with depth and purpose, somehow turned into this thing. This three-parter will be followed primarily by one-shots and mini-arcs set within the same continuity, though not necessarily in chronological order or within the same timeline. Multiple endings are planned.
> 
> Additional warnings for description of wounds, as well as emotional manipulation. The next two chapters will also deal with general body horror and themes surrounding suicide/suicidal ideation.
> 
> Finally, I wanna give a huge thank you to my awesome beta readers, Starfog and ShtiyaJust4You, who put up with my enormous amount of extra commas and helped me turn this self-indulgent mess into something readable. Thank you, friends!

Take a deep breath. There's nothing left to worry about.

... You know that's not true, don't you, Chara?

 

***

 

Sans doesn't allow himself to celebrate when the experiment succeeds. A few dozen timelines ago, he might have, but he has learned. Learned not to take anything for granted. Progress especially. Instead, he copies the collected data to a flash drive and places it on the floor inside the machine in the corner of the laboratory, his "time machine." It's really anything but that. It's broken. Time has frozen inside it, and it remains frozen even through reloads and resets. He has learned how to use this to his advantage.

Leaning against the back wall of the lab is a large cylinder of darkened glass, a silhouette floating, unconscious, in the liquid within.

Sans blinks slowly, watching the tank as though its mere existence is funny to him, somehow. His permanent grin grows a little wider. "you shouldn't've let me do that," he says to the thing trapped inside. "now i'll always know how to stop you. you ruin everything again, i won't need to start over. that's gotta be pretty frustrating."

"Uhm, Sans ..?" Alphys interrupts from her worktable across the room, where she's adjusting the tank's values on her monitor. "P-please don't talk to the comatose child zombie. It's creepy."

Sans laughs as he crosses the room to look over her shoulder. "yeah, sorry 'bout that. just feels good to finally get somewhere, y'know?" His eye-lights flick over the wall of green numbers lighting up the black screen. "how're they doing?"

Rolling her office chair to the side to make room for him, Alphys gestures towards the two rows of data on each side of the screen. "The human is s-surprisingly stable. The cracks separating their body, soul and essence appear to be... well, gone! Nearly. The seams on their soul are p-practically invisible, too! Humans are... terrifying." She shakes her head, not taking her eyes off of the bar labeled 'self-sustainability.' It's at 100%. They could crack open the glass right now and the thing would be able to wake up and walk around as though the last century was just a nightmare.

"and what about him?" Sans turns to look at the tank next to the human's. It's the same size and shape, but the inside of the glass is fogged over and the chamber is filled with white mist.

Alphys swallows audibly. "This... this was a bad idea, Sans. I-I-I'll mess it up again, I _know_ I'll mess it up again-"

"you won't," he says, smiling at her, before walking over to the white tank. He draws a little smiley face in the condensation coating the glass' surface. "and, hell, if you do, it just means we get another go. we'll just keep trying until it sticks. now we know where to start."

"Sure, I'll just... keep torturing children until the time/space-continuum sorts itself out, this is fine. It's fine!" she mutters, claws shaking, as she moves back to the computer, getting back to work on stabilizing the monster child, adjusting the air temperature within the fog tank, balancing the magical current running through the little one's body, keeping him alive. "I don't get how you've been able to s-stay sane in all of this. I really don't."

"padded cells get old after a while." Never mind the fact that his memories evaporate like dreams the moment he wakes up in a new timeline. "at some point you just gotta pick yourself up and do something about it. might as well, right?" To be honest, he doesn't quite remember the first few times he woke up in a cold sweat, convinced that he was losing his mind. Maybe it never happened. Maybe that's a new thing. "besides, we're in a good place right now, trust me. we're living out the best possible outcome."

"And that's why we want to stop them before everything starts over," Alphys finishes his train of thought, as if to remind herself. It's a mess, the whole multiple-timelines-thing, and it's difficult for her to keep track of everything Sans has told her. But he needs her help to save this timeline. She's determined to do everything she can. Even if it means... No, she refuses to think about it. She failed the child once. Now she has the opportunity to undo at least one of her mistakes. Paranoia will have to wait its turn, she's got work to do. Optimizing the monster-subject's conditions to the best of her ability, she spins her chair around to face Sans, taking off her glasses to wipe sweat from the lenses. "N-n-now, what's the plan? What- what do we do next?"

Sans lifts a brow at her, gaze flicking between his friend and the two massive tanks. "i dunno. can't we just keep 'em in there? these really aren't the kind of kids you want running around unchecked. and if the human gets themself killed, they'll be free to reset again. they're tethered to this timeline by their physical form. they lose it, we have to put both of 'em back together all over again. souls, essences, bodies..."

"Y-you told me to build a machine that could sew them back together, not one they could live in!" Alphys says, quickly replacing her glasses. She gets to the floor, claws clicking against the tiles as she nears Sans. "They can't live in there, it's only a matter of time before the human wakes up! And the monster..." She pauses, looking into the fog beyond the glass barrier. "I-I can't let him down again. Not after what I did to him."

"you sure that little freak is worth saving? you saw what he was like when we picked him up." He nods in the direction of the lab's paper bin. At the bottom of it lies a dry, brittle golden flower.

Alphys looks at him, pain in her eyes. For a moment, she reminds him of someone else. "You'd be weird too, if you didn't have a soul."

"hm." Sans sticks his hands in his pockets, sighing through his teeth. "guess i would be."

She looks at him for another moment, wondering why he always sounds like he's trying to say literally anything except for what's actually coming out of his mouth. Then her attention falls back to the white fog. She grinds her teeth, trying to silence the flutter of anxiety turning her thoughts to mush.

Sans sits back down on his chair and leans against the edge of the table. "you think we can get frisk involved in this without toriel finding out? they know more about what kinda characters we're up against. they got through to the amalgamates, maybe they can hug the demons outta these two as well."

"It's... It's worth a try." Alphys nods, mostly to herself. "It's worth a try."

 

***

 

Bus rides are interesting when your mom's a monster the size of a healthy sasquatch. People don't exactly cower in _fear,_ but they do cower. And bus ceilings torn to shreds by dagger-sharp horns do have to be compensated for. Still, it's worth it, just for the slack-jawed looks people give her when they think she isn't looking.

Frisk is the best ambassador the monsters have ever had. Frisk is also the only ambassador the monsters have ever had, but everyone's still pretty sure they couldn't have asked for a better representative of their people. Frisk has single-handedly made sure that the humans provide monsterkind with everything they need to survive on the surface - food, shelter, free bus passes, the respect and good will of their new neighbors ...

Toriel straightens her back and pretends not to notice the human children whispering with pure awe in their voices a few seats behind hers. A soft smile threatens to betray her, and she looks out the window at the small town landscape flying by. Next to her, Frisk is giggling into the neon pink backpack they're clutching to their chest. They never get tired of seeing Toriel like this. Humans aren't smart enough to fear her, unlike monsters. Not even her own students. _Especially_ not her own students.

They get off at their usual stop by the corner. Frisk hoists their backpack over their shoulder and asks, for the 100th time today, why Toriel gave them a B- on that one assignment. They totally should've gotten an A. Their mom laughs and patiently explains once again. Frisk pouts and tells her it's not fair, but they still hold her hand when they walk down the street.

These days, Frisk lives at the very edge of a small town, in a cul-de-sac lined with tired old buildings sagging on their wooden skeletons, wild, but well-kept gardens stretching out in front of each sleepy structure like lolling tongues of hedges, roses and apple trees. On most days, Frisk and Toriel go to school together, go home together, eat butterscotch-cinnamon pie together, and then Frisk does their homework, or pretends to do their homework while texting Monster Kid, and Toriel prepares for her next day of teaching. In the evening, Papyrus invites them over for whichever strangely-shaped pasta he's been able to track down on that particular day, or they visit Undyne and Alphys two houses over.

On most days, Sans doesn't break into their house while they're at school. On most days, he's not flopped over their couch when they come home, watching Mettaton's newest, most malevolent game show on their tv like he owns the place, his entire lower arm buried in a bowl of popcorn.

Today is not like most days.

"Sans, wherever did you get that?" Toriel asks, laughter in her voice, as she shrugs out of her coat and hangs it on the hall tree by the door. "I do not believe we own a microwave." Frisk gives Sans a disapproving look while trying to mimic their adoptive mother's graceful movements, which turns out to be difficult with a jacket twice the size of what it probably should have been.

"hey, you two," Sans greets them, totally ignoring the question. "how was your day?"

"Mom won't give me an A," Frisk drones in their quiet, buzzing voice.

Toriel pats them on the head affectionately. "It's for your own good, my child. We learn for the sake of learning, not in order to get credit where credit is undue."

Pouting, Frisk hangs their backpack on top of their jacket, then sits on the opposite side of Sans' bowl, helping themself to a single piece of popcorn. They lean over slightly, lowering their voice to a tiny whisper. " _I totally do it for credit._ "

Sans tries and fails to keep a snort-y laugh in, nearly tipping the bowl.

"Now," Toriel begins, placing her suitcase on the dinner table and turning to face Sans. She tries to look stern, but the laugh lines near her eyes give her away. "Sans, dear, would you mind telling me how you entered our house without a key? I _do_ hope all our windows remain intact."

"yeah, abou' tha'," he replies through a mawful of popcorn. He swallows, though where the mush actually goes is a mystery. "tori, i was wondering if i could borrow frisk today? top secret ambassador stuff. can't tell ya anymore than that."

Toriel frowns and crosses her arms. "The last time the two of you went to do your so-called 'ambassador stuff', the security guards at the mall called to inform me that my child was involved in the theft of over fifty squeaking poultry toys, a rope, an anvil and an alarm clock."

"hey, we needed those! and i paid for it all out of my own pocket!"

"You gave the officer a pack of gum and told Frisk to go, and I quote: 'hug it out' with her."

"I can be very charismatic when I want to be," Frisk adds, carefully dissecting a piece of popcorn and collecting the yellow shells in the palm of their hand with surgical precision.

"you sure can, buddy."

Toriel falls silent for a moment, still standing by the table, and smiles fondly at her strange child. Then she notices Sans looking at her in turn. She tries to find her stern expression again, but she can't bring herself to question him. She breathes a soundless laugh. "Oh, alright, then." If only she could join them. Who decided she had to be a responsible adult again? "But do not get Frisk into trouble. I may have ruled the Underground, but we are still new to this world. We must abide by the rules of the humans."

"oh, absolutely." Grinning much too deviously for Toriel's liking, Sans sits upright and switches off the tv. "whaddaya say, frisk? you ready to get your people skills on?"

Understanding that their time with the food is limited, Frisk shoves two entire handfuls of popcorn into their mouth, nodding vigorously.

"knew I could count on ya." Pushing himself up off the couch and dusting food crumbs from his shirt, the skeleton heads for the door, the little human not far behind.

"Please try to be back before dinner," Toriel calls after Frisk, sounding like she has already given up on that request. "Oh, and Sans?"

"what?"

"Your mutated corn snack?"

"whoops. sorry." Sans looks over his shoulder and his left eye lights up in a menacing neon blue. He doesn't notice the way Frisk starts, or the way they move half a step back. Effortlessly, he levitates the remaining food to the bin under the sink and deposits the bowl upside-down on top of Frisk's head like a helmet. "see ya, tori."

Outside, the wind is heavy with mid-autumn frost, but Sans' and Papyrus' house is just across the street. Frisk takes the bowl off their head as they follow their friend into the cul-de-sac's circular road, clinging to the plastic.

"bit cold out, huh?" Sans says, frowning slightly at the brown leaves scurrying past them. "guess you could say it's... bone-chilling." He waits for a response. Like, a groan or a laugh. They're practically interchangeable in this situation.

But Frisk only hugs the bowl tighter and looks at the asphalt.

Concerned, he slows his pace a bit so he can look at the kid properly. "hey, why the long face? you're not still scared of this old thing, are you?" He blinks and his left eye lights up again. A few leaves glow blue and twirl around them in a half-hearted whirlwind.

Frisk quickly stands upright, eyes darting between the leaves, as if to keep track of their movement. Then they forcibly tear their attention away from the not-projectiles and look straight ahead instead. A small hand creeps under Sans' elbow, hooking their arms together.

Sans lets the leaves go, blinking away the color in his eye socket. He looks away to hide his expression, shaking his head slowly. "don't worry, kiddo." Gently, he frees his arm from Frisk's grasp and wraps it around their shoulders instead. "not in this timeline."

They lean into him as they walk.

Papyrus isn't home at the moment. Sans thought he might be better off staying far away from here, just for the first few hours.  The house feels darker than usual without his brother there. Cobwebs line the corners of the ceiling. Shadows seem to stick to them.

"so uh..." Sans leads Frisk through the living room, to the small utility room out back. He pauses in front of a door Frisk can't recall ever having seen opened.  They look at him with raised brows and he shifts under their inquisitive gaze. "yeah, this is awkward. i'm gonna be real with you for a moment: i totally lied to your mom just then. sorry, had to be done."

Frisk crosses their arms, the same way Toriel did.

"no, seriously, trust me, she's better off not knowing. this is kind of a big deal." He regards the door for a moment, trying to come up with the least horrifying way of explaining what he's done. Finally, he gives up and turns to the kid with a sigh. "look, there's no nice way of putting this. frisk, i've done something really, really stupid and i need your help. this is gonna touch on some really complicated timeline stuff, so i'm gonna need you to keep quiet about this. you with me so far?"

"Yes."

"okay. so, you prolly wanna keep this timeline, right? this is the one we're stickin' with? your whole situation with my magic tells me that's a 'yes.' anyway, i found a way to make it permanent, but... hoo boy, that requires some social skills that i am not personally capable of executing at this point in time. long story short, there's a hellspawn in my basement and i need you to convince it that this timeline is a cool place to be. you've got literal insider-knowledge on this thing, so i'm counting on you. you play your cards right, you might literally save the fabric of time and space. and your uncle sans from going insane for the eight time. think you can do that for me?" Sans fishes a small, silver key out of his pocket, twirling it on his index finger in front of Frisk's face.

Frisk grabs the key and gives a firm nod, brows furrowed in determination, despite not having the vaguest idea what they're agreeing to. They've worked hard for this outcome time and time again. They're not backing down now.

"knew i could count on ya." Stepping back, Sans bows his head and gestures for them to go ahead. But he interrupts them before they can turn the key. "oh, and uh... frisk?"

They pause, looking up at him.

"i, uh... i have no idea how things are gonna play out down there, you might wanna brace yourself. i think it's better if you see this for yourself, but... just remember that i didn't mean to hurt you back in uh... you know, the previous timelines. I was aiming for the other one, the..." He pauses when he feels a hand on his arm. Takes a deep breath. "yeah, you know what i'm talking about. just know that i'm right behind you, okay? nothing's gonna happen to you while i'm there. promise."

Behind the door, there's a stairway. At the foot of the stairway, a corridor. Even though it's lit with neon lights, it feels darker than the unlit ground floor. The air is thicker and smells like detergents. Cautiously, Frisk makes their way down the steps, studying the four doors embedded in the corridor's walls. They're all plain white, jagged at the edges, completely unremarkable in every way. Frisk wonders if Papyrus knows about this place. They decide that he probably doesn't.

"first one on the right," Sans instructs. "key works for all of 'em. hold on to it."

The old lock creaks and groans at the turning of the key. The door makes a noise like a wounded animal. Cautiously, Frisk peeks inside.

The room is bright, white and sterile, and a bit too empty. The only furniture present is a table, as white as everything else, set up at the far wall. The other walls are lined with chalkboards and what appears to be cross sections of machinery, monsters, human beings... A figure moves at the far wall by the table and Frisk jumps at the sudden movement.

"P-please sit still, I'm j-j-just trying to help!"

"You're useless."

Something cold and prickly runs down Frisk's spine. It feels like having ice water poured down the back of their shirt. For a second, they forget to breathe and the air catches in their throat. They quickly clamp a hand over their mouth to hide the noise. But it's too late.

By the table, Doctor Alphys looks away from her patient and over her shoulder, relief clear on her face. From behind her, a small, pale figure leans into view. Their red eyes light up in childish glee.

" _Frisk!_ "

Frisk can feel Sans hovering behind them, but they hold out a hand, signaling for him to stay back. Their held breath escapes on a name. It sounds like a sob.

"Chara..."

Before Alphys can react, the child sitting on the table elbows her out of the way and jumps to the ground. Sans moves to intervene, but Frisk is quicker, crossing half the room in two steps. He would have been less surprised if Frisk had killed the thing right then and there. Scratched its eyes out, put the key in between its ribs. He might have felt less betrayed, too. Less sick.

"You're shivering." Chara's voice sounds muted, muttered into Frisk's hair. Their lean arms lock a little tighter around the other's frame.

Frisk doesn't reply. They never do. Not when it's Chara. They just bury their nails deeper into their adoptive sibling's back, hiding their face against the kid's shoulder. There's bile in the back of their throat, but they force it down. Focus on the familiar presence, the familiar soul resonating with their own. Focus on the numbness that isn't shock, that isn't fear. Really. It's not.

Chara catches a glimpse of Sans' expression, before their old foe sees them looking. A sweet, serene smile crawls over their paper thin skin and they gently brush a hand over Frisk's upper back, keeping eye contact with the monster watching them. Finally, Frisk seems to remember how to let go. Still keeping their eyes on the ground, they shift away from Chara, holding their hand to keep track of them. Sans and Alphys exchange a look over the children's heads.

"Did you miss me?" Chara asks Frisk, smiling like they know the answer already.

"... did you?" Sans echoes the question, a little more sharply.

Frisk whips around, suddenly remembering that they're not alone. Sans looks completely neutral. Nothing betrays what he's thinking. Frisk looks over at Alphys, who looks nervous as always, but about what exactly, they can't decipher. Looking back and forth between the adults, Frisk seems to shrink before their eyes and slowly they melt closer to Chara. Chara follows their gaze with much more confidence.

"Of course they did," they say, voice thick with stilted cheer, letting the other cling to them without a hint of discomfort. "We were practically the same person at one point, weren't we, Frisk?"

Frisk shakes their head weakly, watching Sans' expression for the smallest hint at what he's thinking. "We really weren't."

"Sure we were," Chara teases, giving them a soft shove with their shoulder. "You must have been so lonely without me."

Ignoring them, Frisk forces themself to hold Sans' gaze as they speak. "Ch... Chara h-helped me create this timeline. We'd still be in the underground without them."

"is that so." Sans regards the red-eyed little beast for a moment. Then he looks at the child cowering next to it. This... looks like a battle for another time. He makes up his mind. "sounds like we've a lot to learn about you, fallen," he says, words slower and more deliberate than usual. He cracks a smile that nearly reaches his eye sockets. "oh well. a friend of frisk is a friend of ours, right, alphys?"

Behind the kids, the scientist frantically gestures for Sans not to bring her into this. When Frisk and Chara turn to look at her, she freezes up and hoists up the corners of her mouth in something that only vaguely resembles a grin. "... S... Sure," she says, her voice a few octaves higher than she intended.

"name's sans." Sans steps up to Chara, holding out his hand in a much-too-familiar gesture. "but you know that already. welcome to our timeline."

Chara looks up at him, head bowed just slightly. After a moment's hesitation, they take a step forward. But instead of reaching out, they slide their fingers under the edge of the back of their shirt, and from behind their back, they extract a small, shiny scalpel.

Frisk grabs their wrist. "No-no-no..."

"Relax," Chara laughs quietly, eyes glinting with barely-contained amusement. They pull their hand away from the other's grasp and switch their hold on the scalpel from the handle to the blade in a single, fluid movement. "See?" Smiling at a still-uncomfortable Frisk, they place the potential weapon in Sans' outstretched hand. Then they look back to Sans himself. "Be careful leaving these around. Someone could hurt themself."

Sans grimaces at his own reflection in the scalpel, before glancing at Frisk. "... i gotta say, buddy, you sure know how to pick 'em."

Frisk pushes Chara in the shoulder as if to tell them to cut it out. Not literally. Figuratively cut it out. _Only figuratively._ Chara laughs it off.

"Sans, can I... talk to you for a moment? I-in the other room?" Alphys points a claw at the closed door across the hall. " _Alone?_ " She pushes the last word through her teeth, eyes wide with barely-concealed panic.

Shrugging, Sans agrees to it without protesting, stepping aside to let the nervous lizard out first. He looks over his shoulder, before following her. "i take it you kids are gonna be alright by yourselves?"

Frisk flinches at the question. It takes them a moment to realize that he actually seems to be waiting for a response. They nod.

Sans takes the answer at face value and walks out the door. He's about to close it, when he remembers something. "oh, wait. frisk, key."

Fumbling with their pockets for a moment, Frisk manages to find the silver key and quickly throws it to Sans, who catches it, even though Frisk's aim was way off. "i'm gonna lock you in. you need anything, just shout." Before closing the door completely, he catches Frisk's eyes. His expression is still unreadable, but for a fraction of a second, a nearly invisible blue glow shines across his left eye, a speck of color in the gloomy corridor beyond the door. For once, it's not scary. Feeling the cold knot in their stomach loosen just a little bit, Frisk manages to offer a small smile in return. They understand.

_Not in this timeline. I didn't mean to hurt you. I was aiming for the other one._

The door closes and the sharp noise of the lock seals them in.

Frisk turns to see Chara having already lost interest in the others. They're crawling back up on the table, making for the wadding and disinfectant Alphys left behind.

"Frisk, come help me out with this, it's gross." They pull their left sleeve up to their shoulder, revealing a pattern of circular wounds stretching from their wrist to the inside of their upper arm.

The other kid recoils at the sight. Ew. Over their dead body.

Chara rolls their eyes, picking the wadding up themself. "You're such a baby." Annoyed, they set to work where Alphys left off, padding the stinging liquid into their wounds without hesitation. "A family member comes back from the dead just to say 'hi' to you and you're not even gonna help them stay alive. And here I thought you were _happy_ to see me." Frowning, seemingly genuinely disappointed, they pull their sleeve back down and hoist the right one up instead. After struggling to make it stay put for a moment, they lose their patience and decide to hold it up with their teeth, muttering obscenities into the fabric.

Hoping they're distracted for the time being, Frisk slowly moves closer, studying the apparently completely autonomous, fully functional human child sitting on the table in front of them. It's creepy how much they look like Frisk. They're paler, of course, and taller by an inch or two, but the hair, the build, the way their brow twitches when they're concentrating... Beyond the odd wounds, they show no signs of having ever been anything but alive and well either. Their soul feels nearly the same, as it echoes in Frisk's own, just like it used to. It feels lighter though. Fresher. Like something thick and rotten has been drained right out of it. The energy feels younger, somehow.

They act differently, too, Frisk notes.

Letting go of their shirt sleeve, Chara spits obnoxiously, trying to get the taste out of their mouth. Feeling around their throat and neck, they find another set of wounds on the bit where the back of their neck connects to their spine. "Okay, seriously, quit gawking and help me, I can't see what's going on back there." They give their sibling a stern look. It reminds Frisk of Toriel's.

Sighing, Frisk steels themself and crosses the room, crawling from the chair to the table, where they sit next to Chara, who turns and holds their hair to the side. It looks ghastly up close. Shallow, perfectly circular openings in the skin, with several smaller wounds in the lower layers of tissue. Three openings sit on the kid's upper back in a perfect, downward-pointing triangle.

"D... does it hurt?" Their voice gives out, deeper and croakier than usual. They don't talk to Chara. Ever. They didn't have to, when they first met. It felt wrong. Like the mere act of acknowledging them was somehow the same as surrendering to them. It still feels like that.

"Duh." Chara never did care about that stuff. "Doctor Alphys says they were sticking cables in the shell to keep it alive until they found the rest of my soul. They were messing up a bunch of other timelines just to get me here."

Frisk picks up the wadding and disinfectant, and they try to be careful, even though their friend doesn't seem to mind the pain at all. They suppose everything else pales in comparison to dying from buttercups.

"You're not even a little curious about why I'm here ..?" Chara asks, turning their head slightly, so they can look at them out of the corner of one eye. "Don't you even care if I'm staying at all?"

Frisk pauses. Lowers their hand slightly. Tries to focus on the numb feeling. Tries to keep a hold of it, tries to cover up the not-fear. Something cuts through the illusion and finally, they can't help but look into the single red eye fixed on them. "You... _are_ staying, right?"

Chara stares at them, unblinking. Then they turn their face away again. "Maybe. They want me to. But I... haven't decided yet. Do you want me to stay?" There's a trace of desperation in their voice. It's well-hidden.

With a dry piece of wadding, Frisk dabs the cleaned wounds, then pulls the shirt's neckline over them. "I would've been dead without your help. You deserve to live the ending you chose." Their voice is frail with the persistent feeling. It's still not fear.

"But do you _want_ me to?" Chara presses, shuffling around to face Frisk properly.

A crease appears between Frisk's brows. They struggle not to look into the intense gaze fixed on them. A moment ago, it seemed impossible to do so, but now it's harder not to.

Cocking their head to the side, Chara studies the other human's expression. A small crescent smile tucks at the corners of their mouth, but it's not as empty as it usually is. "You do, don't you?" Their voice is lower too, almost a whisper, wonder tinting the edges of the words. "You missed me."

"I kn-know you don't mean well," Frisk manages to stammer out, struggling to will down the creeping panic blaring in their ears. "I know it's all a game to you and you'd kill them all if they started boring you again, but.."

"No," they interrupt, the smile warming their voice, as they sit upright, reaching out to... they don't know what they're going to do. Whatever they do, it's going to scare Frisk. They settle for taking their hand, that seemed to be okay before. "No, no, no, Frisk, I _made_ this ending. I want them to be happy. Why would I wait this long, if I didn't care? You think I had fun being dead? I didn't. But it doesn't matter. Now I'm back. And you... you want me to stay!"

There's a childishness to them that's entirely new and entirely too jarring for Frisk. Their words hold so much desperate, fragile hope. And so much relief. There's something so human about it, it feels so wrong. They don't understand why, but Frisk is struck with the sudden urge to cry, to let the panic out, to pour the dead feeling into something tangible, something real. They manage to hold it back, nodding weakly instead to confirm the other's words.

For a moment, Chara just sits there, smiling stupidly, genuinely, as if it comes naturally, as if they've always been able to. Then they sigh and their shoulders fall, and just like that, the moment is gone. Their bright eyes dull and their smile fades to a familiar empty grimace. This seems more natural. Familiar. Placated, they turn away slightly, facing the door instead. "Our brother's gonna be here soon, too."

Frisk perks up, surprised. They can kind of piece together why messing with Chara's life and timelines could have an effect on time's flow, but why bring Asriel into this?

As if they were able to hear the other's thoughts, Chara says: "He kind of messed up some time stuff as a flower. And if I'm not there to keep him in check, he could do it again, if he felt like it. So they're putting both of us in our original bodies, so we can't use our powers to reset. Mom and dad are gonna freak out when they see us. If he can stop destabilizing for five minutes, that is."

"D... Destabilizing?"

"Yeah." Chara shrugs. "He's a monster, their bodies are dependent on their state of mind. If he wants to live, he's going to have to stop being such a crybaby and just accept his fate already.  They killed his flower body, but he doesn't know that. He thinks he's going to come back wrong again."

Voices sound on the other side of the door, hushed, but slightly panicked. " _it's fine,_ " Sans says. " _just don't think about it too much. worst case scenario, we get to start over._ "

" _Why did I let you drag me into this?_ "

The lock creaks and then the door opens. Sans looks inside, a deceptively disarming look on his face.

"alright, kids, visiting hours are over. come on."

Behind him, Alphys watches Frisk and Chara with narrowed eyes, wringing her hands in discomfort.

"Welp. It was fun while it lasted, right?" Chara says, falling to the floor and heading for the exit. Before leaving, they look back at Frisk. There's something going on in that head of theirs, but as usual, they cover it up with the most innocuous facade they can muster. "Come back tomorrow. I don't wanna be stuck here all alone." ... Although, maybe they're not being completely insincere, either.

Alphys leads them into the corridor, heading for the back room on the right. Meanwhile, Frisk follows Sans up the stairs to the ground floor. An uncomfortable silence stretches between them.

When they reach the living room, Sans heads for the fridge. "so," he begins, still in that unsettling, casual tone. "now that your pal down there is out of ear shot, you wanna tell me what your deal is with them?" He takes out two ice cream containers, one chocolate, one vanilla, and holds them up, gesturing for Frisk to choose.

"M-mom's gonna be mad," Frisk says meekly, eyeing the door.

"your mom ain't here." Without waiting for a reply, he drops the chocolate ice cream in Frisk's hands, then takes two spoons from a drawer, placing one of them on top of the container. Then he goes to sit on the couch at the far end of the room.

Reluctantly, Frisk follows him. They look at the print on the container, feeling guilty. "I don't even like chocolate."

Sans looks over at them. Their eyes are watering, and he's guessing it's not because of the flavor. They look smaller than usual, somehow. It reminds him of the first casualty-free timeline, where the poor thing was just learning how to be themself again after Fallen released them from their control. Did five minutes in the little hellspawn's presence really set them back to square one? Sans switches the ice cream containers without commenting on it.

"hey." He picks the lid off his food and puts his feet on the coffee table. "kid, look. you're not in trouble, okay? i trust you. and i can't say that about whole lot of people. whatever you're thinking, i'm sure you got your reasons. i just... really need to know those reasons, or we might have a problem, you 'n me." He tilts his head a bit, trying to get the little human to look at him, tries to show them that he's not angry, just worried. "don't you think it'd be easier if we were on the same side here? 'cause i do." Because that's what he is. Worried. Just worried.

But Frisk is too good at reading him. At reading people. Angry adults especially. They all look the same, even the ones who mean them no harm. Normally, they'd run away, and it's their first instinct too. Just get out of here, find Toriel, find safety. But today, they run their thumb over the edge of the spoon's handle, look at their own reflection in the silverware. Their expression is closed and cold, and it reminds them of the person trapped in the basement.

"I already told you," they say, defiance making their low voice break. "Chara helped me make this timeline. They're not bad anymore." Spoon gripped a little too tightly, they cut a little heart shape into the ice cream. "I fixed them." It's perfectly symmetrical.

Sans' smile becomes a little stiffer. "... okay, then." He tries to hide it by eating, buying himself time to think. "and uh... how'd you go about doing that, then? 'fixing' them, i mean?"

"It doesn't matter!" Frisk lowers their head, turning away from him. "They're fine now and they're not gonna hurt anybody. And I won't either, so stop being mad at me!"

"hey, hey, cool it." He flinches, holding his palms up in surrender. "literally." He forces a laugh and picks his spoon back up to point at Frisk's ice cream. "that should do the trick."

Frisk shoots a glare at him out of the corner of their eye, scoops up the little ice heart and eats it without breaking eye contact. Okay, so maybe that whole 'Frisk and Fallen are completely different people with nothing in common' thing was more than a small amount of wishful thinking on Sans' part. Just a tad.

"listen," he says, sitting up properly in the couch. "i'm serious. i'm not mad at you. but for once in my life, i'm genuinely worried about something and lemme tell you, it's a feeling i could really, really do without. come on." He sets his own ice cream on the table and turns in his seat to face his friend. "tell me what happened."

"Not before you tell me why you're doing this."

Sans looks at them for a moment. Weighs his options. "okay then." He supposes it won't do any harm, letting Frisk in on his plan. "if you insist." He still needs their help, after all. "let me start by asking you a question. can you reset?"

Frisk shakes their head.

"can i reset?"

Obviously not.

"and what do you and me have in common?"

Frisk looks at him for a moment, trying to read the answer in the holes of his empty skull. "We're... alive?"

Sans snaps his fingers. "bingo. to be more specific, we're completed entities. we each have a body, a soul and an essence, the thing that's 'us', basically. now fallen and asriel, they were different cases. they stuck around in a world where they were functionally dead. they each found a vessel to act through, asriel had his flower, fallen had you. but according to reality, they didn't exist. they were... timeless classics, if you will. heh. anyway. using the power of determination, they were able to circumvent the whole system and find weak spots in reality's code. the underground's full of those. you do the math."

"So that's why you gave them bodies?" Frisk asks. "So they can be a part of reality again?"

"as long as those're intact, this timeline's permanent." He grins and rewards himself with a scoop of ice thrice the size of the spoon's bowl. "me and alphys found a way to extract the missing bits from previous timelines. sometimes fallen or asriel managed to resurrect their own bodies or souls, dunno if you remember. it was a while back. we cobbled them together with this timeline's version of their essences and fallen's soul fragment, and now they're bound by the same laws as everyone else. slaves under the crushing rule of permanence." He laughs and winks at the kid watching him with rapt attention.

"So only people with a lot of Determination can reset."

"yep."

"And only if their essences somehow stick around after their bodies die."

"essentially." Scraping the bottom of the chocolate container, Sans stands up and heads for the kitchen area. "it doesn't usually happen. hell, i doubt it's happened before, ever. asriel held the determination of six human souls within him." He throws out the container and sticks the spoon in the dishwasher. "and something's up with fallen, not sure what it is."

Frisk frowns at him as he returns to his spot on the couch, but they have to admit, he's probably not wrong. Chara has abilities that no one else does. Their Determination isn't natural. Or maybe it is and they were just born unlucky. Would Frisk be able to return from death, if Chara wasn't there to save them? Would they even know how? They're not sure. Probably not. Frisk isn't any different from the other humans who went to Mt. Ebott. Aside from the fact that they were willing to invite Chara into their head. It was stupid. But even if they had the chance, they doubt they could bring themself to do it over. In the end, Chara did save everyone. Frisk would be long gone without them. Just like all the kids before them.

"We weren't friends at first," they say, finally. "And I didn't lie to you about how they tricked me. They said they weren't gonna hurt me, but when I reached out to them, they did something to my soul and... then I couldn't get rid of them." They lean back into the couch and eat a few more scoops out of the plastic container, just to focus on something else for a minute. "They made me hurt a lot of people, but I don't really remember much. I didn't know who they were or what they wanted from me. I didn't know what to do."

Sans leans his elbows on his knees and folds his hands, pretending not to see the way life seems to drain from the kid's eyes at the memory.

"I always managed to spare just... one or two people at least, every time. Usually, it was you. That really bothered them."

"that was you sparing me?" He doesn't mean to interrupt, not when they're finally talking, but the question comes out of his mouth without consulting the rest of him first.

Frisk nods.

"uhm. wow. yikes." He ducks his head and scratches the side of his jawbone. "sorry about that. i guess i kind of assumed things were out of your hands at that point. whaddaya know." He should've known. Of course he should've known. Frisk remembers their battles, they would _have_ to have been in there somewhere still, wherever Fallen had hidden them away. "anyway." It's no use feeling guilty about that now. "go on."

Frisk takes a deep breath, tries to focus. The timelines are a mess in their head, it's hard to remember them in order. It's even harder to keep track of them when bits are missing. "Something happened this one time. And... it's really weird. There's a timeline that I don't remember at all, but I know it was there, because after this one reset, Chara was really upset and when I woke up in the flower patch, they..." They scrunch up their face. A little bit of emotion returns to their expression, even if it's just confusion. "I guess they gave me a ghost hug? It was really weird, like something was squeezing my brain. They felt really guilty, but they kind of tried to hide it. Which they couldn't, because our souls were linked and I could feel how sad they were. I don't know what they did, but for the first time, they didn't try to control me at all. They just followed me around and like ..." Frisk has to pause for a second, as their voice disappears again. They cough a bit, willing sound back into existence. They're not used to long conversations, not yet. They barely spoke for years of their life. Now that they have something to talk about and someone who wants to listen, they're out of practice.

Sans' eye-lights seem to flare up brighter than usual. Genuine unease - or maybe it's fear? - carves deep frown lines into his forehead. But he doesn't push for them to continue.

"Anyway, in that timeline, they just... didn't do anything. I asked them why, and they said they were bored of me always messing up their plans, so they wanted to see what my ending looked like. What I wanted. That's when I decided to find out who they were." The tension in Frisk's shoulders fades away. As they speak, they cut another heart shape into the ice cream, carefully evening out its surface, so it looks nice. "And... Chara changed. It was like they were a completely different person. Well, it was more like they finally turned into a person. Like something inside them grew back, something they'd been missing for a long time. This one time, we found this music box hidden in an old statue in Waterfall and they... they started to cry." A small smile blooms on their face. But it fades as quickly as it appeared. They look over at Sans, eyes wide and pleading. "Chara's just like Asriel. They were lost. They didn't mean for all that bad stuff to happen. I know they can be mean, but they're just a kid. They're just like me. They were really sad and they tried to make it stop the only way they knew how. But it's over now. I fixed them."

Sans' expression doesn't change.

" _Please_ don't be mad at them."

Slowly, the frown lines even out. The eye-lights dim. Then they disappear completely. He sighs and leans back into the couch, the same way Frisk does. "kid, i know this stuff is hard to understand." He sinks his hands into his pockets and tilts his head back to look at the roof, the way he used to do when they were all still trapped underground. "but people are complicated. and not just adults. your friend had fun driving us to extinction once, who's to say they won't do again?"

"But they won't do it again!" Frisk argues. They set their ice cream on the table and sit up straight, facing Sans. "They haven't killed anyone in like, seven timelines!"

"but they reset."

"Because they _missed_ us! They were all alone down there, they just wanted to see everybody again!"

Sans' eyes light up again, revealing that he's looking at Frisk, not the ceiling. "'s that what they told you?"

Frisk jumps off the couch as if it'd stung them. "You can't do this! Them and Asriel were the only ones I couldn't save, but now I can! Don't ruin it!"

He struggles to keep his tone light. "it's not like you're gonna be saving anyone if fallen tricks you again."

The kid balls their hands into shaking fists and their eyes shimmer with salt water. "But I won't _let_ them! I'll be careful, I promise! They just need someone they can trust, someone who won't leave-"

"frisk, the last person who stuck with them got killed."

"You're just mad because _I_ got through to them and _you_ didn't!"

Sans leans forward, resting one hand on his knee, the fur lining his hood flaring up as his shoulders hunch. "or maybe i'm mad because you're ready to risk everyone's safety to protect the one person responsible for this mess. could that be it? am i wrong?"

Frisk opens their mouth to argue, but their throat closes up, strangling the sound. They step backwards, nearly colliding with the table. Their hand moves up to touch their throat, tears tear loose from their eyes.

Sans' anger drains away, immediately replaced by regret.

The basement door creaks in the other room, then clicks, as its locked again.

"Th-they've f-finally settled down," Alphys says, casting nervous glances over her shoulder, as she enters the living room. Then she catches sight of Frisk. "O-oh no, Frisk, are you alright?" She scurries over, seemingly wanting to reach out to the kid, but not really knowing how, or if it's okay. She ends up hovering by them, eyes nervously flicking from their tear-stained face to the fingers still pressed to the skin over their uncooperative vocal cords. Frisk looks down, trying to hide the tears, and makes a strained, high-pitched noise through the lump in their throat.

Sans closes his eyes tightly, cursing himself for being so stupid. "i'm sorry." You can't argue with Frisk. Not for real. Not when they're like this.

Alphys gives him a weird look. She's not sure what he possibly could've said to upset the little one like this, but she's a lot less surprised than she should've been. She wraps an arm around Frisk, who clings to her as their breathing slows and their running eyes dry. "They're just a kid, Sans, give them a break," she mutters, gently wiping the water from their face with the back of her hand. "Come on, Frisk, I'll walk you home."

Frisk reluctantly lets go of her, head still bowed. They give Sans a dark look from under their jagged bangs. There is so, so much they want to say, but the noise in their head makes it impossible. They hate this. Still not being okay, still not being able to speak up, fight, get upset like everyone else, without everything turning to static on the inside. They're certain Sans is going to blame it on Chara.

It's so frustrating, not being able to tell him off the way they want to. In pure exasperation, they look around, searching for something, anything, that can help them get back at him. Pretending not to notice he's watching them, Frisk pointedly abducts the spoon from the table and slips it into their sleeve. It's better than nothing. Sweet revenge.

"Uhm, maybe- maybe keep an eye on- on Asriel, while I'm gone?" Alphys says to Sans, as she leads Frisk to the door. "If you can."

"yeah. i will."

Sans watches them cross the open street through the window. He's not sure what to think anymore. He wants to trust the little human. Across all the timelines, they've been his only companion, the only constant, the only one who understood. Was Fallen pulling the strings from the beginning? Were they controlling Frisk all along, not just through possession, but manipulation as well?

Timelines are blurring together in the back of his mind. For so long, he'd assumed Frisk hated Fallen as much as he did. But maybe the difference between 'that one' and 'the other one' isn't as clear as he would like to think.

 

***

 

Though there are no windows in their basement room, Chara feels twilight turn to night as clearly as changing weather. Maybe you just develop a sense for it, after living underground for so long. Or maybe it's their body trying to talk them into sleeping. Maybe it's not really night. Maybe it's all in their head.

They listen to their own heartbeat, taste the stale air as it passes the roof of their mouth. There's a gray cloud in their head swallowing up whatever reaction they probably should've had to this. To being alive. It's just like all the previous timelines, the ones where they resurrected their body. Bland, painful, limiting. They always managed to regret it, always managed to reset. Horrible consequences were generally involved and it was never really worth it. Having a soul, an intact soul, only makes the experience that much more uncomfortable.

Chara decides they've had enough time to get used to being alive. They sit up in their bed and fumble for the light switch. Hard, fluorescent light drills into their skull and they curse at the empty room. Was that really necessary? They've been lying in complete darkness for hours now. Show some mercy, physiques. They rub their palms against their eye lids, trying to make the stars burnt into their corneas disappear.

They look to the chair next to their bed. It's the only other piece of furniture in the empty room, and the lizard decided to stack her gross comic books on it. Chara picks a few of them up and looks at the covers. They all look equally obnoxious. Choosing one with robots on the front, they flip it open. None of it makes sense. The characters seem to be... reacting in reverse? And why does it say "the end" at the bottom of the first page? Should they be reading this right to left or something? They flip it around and start reading in reverse. Okay, this looks like the beginning. They read a few pages, skimming some parts. The robot butler is pretty cool, but the rest is _so_ stupid. They're convinced there's a joke hidden between the lines somewhere, a joke they're not in on. They're personally offended at this.

Chara skims the next few pages, before letting the comic fall into their lap with a disgusted grimace. "This is garbage."

"tell me about it."

They jolt upright, eyes wide.

"oh, sorry." Sans is leaning against the wall across from the bed, eyes narrowed, a crooked grin on his face. "did i scare you?"

Contempt rots Chara's shock away. They look like they're about to gag on it. "Great. What do _you_ want?" They throw the comic book back on the pile it came from and swing their legs over the edge of the bed, facing their guest.

"nothing, nothing," Sans says with an innocuous shrug. "just checking in. you must be pretty bored down here." He looks around the empty room, clearly not going to do anything about the issue.

"Maybe I am," they reply. "Maybe I'll get bored enough to go for a little walk. Your brother should be home by now, do you think he wants to come with me?" A sweet smile sits on top of the ugly grimace like a bow. "I'm sure he'd love the company. He always does."

Sans snorts, trying to hold back laughter, and pushes away from the wall. "ohh boy. i'm sure he'd love to. you're a real charmer, kid." He sticks his hands in his pockets, shakes his head. His amusement is almost genuine. "try to pace yourself, though. chances are you and me are gonna be spending a lot more time together in the future. you don't wanna run out of bad jokes before you're done here."

"And when _am_ I going to be 'done here'?" Chara stands up and goes to inspect the lock, searching for weak spots. "I gave you your happy ending and now you're questioning me? I was happy never seeing any of you again, but now you've annoyed me. You do know what that means, right?" They press their nails into the narrow crack between the door and its frame, trying to get a feel for the mechanism. "I'm going to have to reset. And it's going to be your fault. How does that make you feel? Knowing the dust of your precious friends is going to be on your hands? Do you think Frisk will be able to hold me back next time? Maybe I'll finally be able to get rid of all of you. What an ending that would be."

"you talk a big game for  an undead ten-year-old." Sans' left eye lights up and the door jerks just an inch to the left, hinges creaking as they're pulled to their limit.

Chara lets out a pained yelp, yanking their fingers back. Reddish-purple bruises line the skin under their nails. Clutching their hand, more out of habit than because of the pain, they glare over their shoulder. "I'm eleven." They pout, inspecting their fingertips again.

The floor tiles squeak under the soles of Sans' shoes as he crosses them. "sure you are," he says slowly. "you're just a kid. all alone, far away from home. no one knows you're alive and no one misses you anymore. tell me: what does this situation look like from your perspective? what does the future look like to you right now?" He stops a few feet from the door.

Trying not to press their back to the featureless surface, Chara gives him a venomous look and stands their ground. "It looks _temporary._ "

Sans regards them for a moment, studying the child's expression. Then he says: "that's fair. but do you know what it looks like to me?" He doesn't wait for another sarcastic reply. "it looks like an opportunity." He turns his back to them, moving to the bedside, where he flips a few pages in the comic book they discarded. "you're capable of a lot of stupid things. understandable, i mean, you're ten-"

"I'm eleven!"

"- you're a misanthropic, suicidal kid with the ability to bend reality to your will, it doesn't take a genius to figure out that that's a bad combination."

Chara's jaw drops. They look like they've just been hit. They blink a few times, mentally fumbling to find the mask again, struggling to shut down, before Sans sees.

But Sans continues without so much as glancing at them. "i'm not going to make excuses for all the crap you've pulled these past few timelines, but i _am_ going to tell you this: if i were you, this is the moment i'd stop pretending to be having fun. i'm giving you an opportunity to start over. in this timeline, you've redeemed yourself. you got your brother killed, but you helped him find peace, too. you freed our people, just like you'd always wanted to. quit while you're ahead. after all..." He turns to smile at them, eye sockets black and hollow. "... me and your little friends are the only ones who know what you did."

Chara becomes aware of their nails digging into their palms and they force themself to relax, straightening their back in defiance. But they can't find the words to retaliate. They didn't know he knew. They... they didn't know. How does he know?

"i won't waste your time. yell if you need anything, okay? i'll be upstairs."

Side-stepping to let him through, perhaps a little more passively than they really wanted to, Chara watches their prison warden unlock the door and step through. They want to say something, they want to let him know they still have the upper hand, they can still undo _all_ of this and put him through hell the moment they feel like it, they can still _break him-_ but somehow, it doesn't seem to be enough. Nothing they can do to him seems to be enough. Could they erase his memories? Could they erase _him_ completely? Chara can't figure out how. Something has changed.

How does he _know?_

"You're wrong, though," they manage to croak out.

Sans looks back through the door, clearly not convinced. "what about?"

"Someone did miss me. _Someone_ was happy to see me." Their voice falls to a forceful hiss, as they latch on to the one thing they still have power over. "Someone you trusted all along."

He pauses for a moment. Nods slowly. "true. unfortunately, i've had to kill them exactly as many times as i've killed you, so. y'know. if i have to kill 'em again, it's nothin' new. just... business as usual."

He closes the door and locks it behind him. But he lingers for a moment, not quite ready to let go of the handle. Finally, he gives up, falls back against the door and slides down to the tiles. He pulls his knees up to his chest, leaning his arms over them. None of this is permanent. Nothing ever is. He needs to stop worrying. Needs to stop caring. Keep trying, do whatever it takes, even if it doesn't stick. Fallen dies, he'll try again. Frisk dies, it'll be undone. He dies himself, well, he knows what comes after. Nothing stays. No consequences. Stop caring.

He's so tired. So tired.

Inside the room, Chara tries to get their heart to stop pounding against their ribs.


	2. Asriel As Ever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was physically painful to write. If you look closely, you'll find little bits of my torn heart among the letters. But it's also probably the best thing I've ever written, so y'know. It's a good kind of pain.
> 
> I wanna give a HUGE thanks to everyone who left comments and kudos on the last chapter! I'm still not totally caught up on AO3 etiquette when it comes to replying to comments (do I always reply?? or only when peeps have questions? I just don't know), but know that I really, really appreciate any and all feedback, it's amazing for motivation. I'm really excited to hear what you all think of chapter 2.
> 
> And once again, I also wanna thank my awesome betas, Starfog and ShtiyaJust4You. <3

When Sans doesn't wake up where he fell asleep, dread creeps up his spine, ice piercing the marrow. It takes him a moment to realize that the ceiling above his head is not the one from back home. He sits up in his bed with a start, looking out the window. No snow. No darkness. Just gardens and gray clouds and dead leaves. He forces his shoulders down, breathes deeply, rubs his eye sockets. He needs to stop doing this. A part of him wonders if he'll ever be able to.

A few minutes later, when he's seated at the kitchen table downstairs, Papyrus nags: "BROTHER, YOU SIMPLY MUST BE MORE CAREFUL ABOUT WHERE YOU CHOOSE TO DOZE OFF!" He sets a plate of rolled-up pancakes in front of his brother, then goes to get a plate for himself as well."IT WAS FREEZING DOWN THERE, YOU COULD HAVE GOTTEN A COLD!"

"bro. we lived in snowdin until a couple months ago. skeletons don't get colds." Sans smiles weakly at him, then picks up a fork and pokes at his food. A few noodles fall out of one end of a pancake. He laughs, making a face at his plate. "what'd you do to this thing? you sure it's not in pain?"

"HUMAN BREAKFAST IS GREATLY LACKING IN PROPER NUTRIENTS. I MERELY GAVE A IT A HEALTHY STAT BOOST!" Papyrus sits down across from him, picks up his own fork and knife and digs into the strange amalgamated food as though it wasn't a crime against nature. "DON'T BELIEVE YOU CAN WORM YOUR WAY OUT OF THIS ONE, HOWEVER." He swallows the first few bites, before sharply pointing his fork at Sans. "I'M GOING TO NEED TO KNOW WHAT YOU WERE DOING SNOOZING IN THE BASEMENT. THE KEY HAS BEEN MISSING SINCE SEPTEMBER, WHERE DID YOU FIND IT??"

Sans leans his chin on his free hand, picking at a few of the escaped noodles. "found it in the sink last night. spiders probably stole it. i guess they knew they couldn't... _keyp_ it from us forever."

Papyrus stops dead in the middle of shoving another pancake in his face. The look he sends his brother is _withering._

"... muffet was scared it'd make 'em _lock_ bad?"

"YOU WORRY ME SOMETIMES."

"don't," Sans says, studying his food with a not-quite-present smile. "seriously, i'm fine. i was just trying to figure out a way to open the doors down there and i got tired. i don't think there's anything in there, i'm not gonna waste any more time on it."

"SEE TO IT THAT YOU DON'T!" Papyrus nods, seemingly satisfied with his lecture. He tries to finish the rest of his breakfast in silence, tries to tell himself it's fine. That he's done his duty as a cool and reliable brother. But... it's hard not to pry. Though he was mostly joking before, he really does worry about Sans. After they all came to the surface, he had hoped things would get better, but lately... "I, UH... I ASSUME THIS HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH ALL THE TIME YOU'VE BEEN SPENDING WITH DOCTOR ALPHYS AS OF LATE?" Papyrus doesn't exactly 'do' insecure, but he does do wary, sometimes. Nothing wrong with that. Even the toughest of royal guards need to know when to be cautious, he tells himself.

Sans looks up at him with raised brows. "what do you mean?" His eyes briefly flick to the window, as if to check that no one else is listening.

"WELL, SHE IS..." Papyrus sits back in his chair, shoulders raised in a permanent flinch. "LOOK, FORGIVE ME FOR THIS, ALPHYS IS LOVELY AND- AND _BRILLIANT,_ BUT- WE BOTH KNOW THAT THE TWO OF YOU MAY RELATE ON ISSUES THAT... AREN'T FUN. AT ALL. AND YOU- YOU ALWAYS SEEM SO... DRAINED WHEN YOU'VE BEEN SPENDING TIME WITH HER, AND I-I-I-" He stops himself and takes a second to regain his composure. He straightens his back and looks at his brother with utmost seriousness. "WHAT I AM TRYING TO SAY IS THAT IF THE TWO OF YOU ARE IN A BAD PLACE, I WOULD LIKE TO PERSONALLY ENSURE THAT YOU DO NOT REMAIN THERE! DO NOT TRY TO SPARE ME FROM YOUR FEELINGS, NOBLE AS IT IS, FOR THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS MORE THAN CAPABLE OF BEING YOUR ROCK IN THIS DIFFICULT TIME!! JUST SAY THE WORD, AND I SHALL BRING YOU BOTH BACK ON THE PATH TO OVERZEALOUS, UNWAVERING SELF-ADORATION! EVEN IF I HAVE TO CARRY YOU!!!"

Sans presses the back of his hand to his mouth, trying to stifle the half-smile growing forth against his will. "it's nothing like that," he says, even though the words sear the inside of his mouth. "we're just... hanging out. doing our dumb nerd thing, y'know? we're fine."

Papyrus frowns, not at all convinced. "... IF YOU'RE SURE. I SUPPOSE YOU KNOW BEST." He glances up at the clock hanging over the sink, realizing he should be on his way to work by now. "BUT BEWARE - IF I SEE THE SLIGHTEST TRACE OF EXISTENTIAL SUFFERING, I WILL NOT HOLD BACK!" He gulps down the last of his food, then gets up to retrieve his things from the other room.

"you never do. hey, how's newer home coming along, by the way?"

"TERRIBLE!" Papyrus emerges with two cardboard boxes of his weaponized bones stacked under one arm. Turns out they're surprisingly useful for construction work-related magic. "UNDYNE STILL REFUSES TO AUTHORIZE THE BUILDING I PITCHED!"

"it _was_ in the shape of your own head."

"EXACTLY! WHAT A MISSED OPPORTUNITY THAT IS!"

Papyrus barely manages to drive out of the house's garage before Undyne comes running across the cul-de-sac, her coat under her arm, and jumps into the passenger seat of the red sports car yelling about "calling shotgun permanently, forever, don't complain, Papyrus, I'm still your boss!" Sans can hear them passionately debating the apparently very official and very important rules of 'shotgun' all the way down the street. Alphys comes over soon after to check on Asriel. He's still not stable enough to release. Chara talks loudly at them from the other room about wanting to "help", but they sound anything but well-meaning and their barely-concealed threats get old quick.

" _I bet he's going be so happy to see you, Sans,_ " they yell through two concrete doors. " _No wait, it's 'Smiley Trashbag', right? What a nice nickname! It suits you!_ "

Sans rubs his temples, trying to concentrate on the wall of text on the monitor in front of him. "i'm going to strangle that kid."

"Try to restrain yourself," Alphys begs, claws running over the keyboard at the other table. She's not entirely too keen on the whole timeline-thing, now that she's aware of it. Reality seems much too fragile compared to what she was used to before Sans brought this mess into her life. Having to put up with an obnoxious child zombie somehow seems to pale in comparison to the prospect of being ripped through time and space and having her memories wiped in a cosmic retcon.

Before Sans can complain further, a noise sounds from upstairs. Alphys looks nervous for a moment, but Sans tells her it's okay, he'll go see what's up, she doesn't have to move, he'll be right back.

The noise sounds again, loud and persistent, as he ascends the stairs. Without the concrete blocking off the noise, he identifies it as the doorbell.

He's caught off guard when he sees who's standing outside. "you're here early." He leans inside to look at the clock. It's barely past noon. "your school burn down or something?"

"Math teacher got run over by a Temmie stampede," Frisk confesses, mumbling a bit. "It was awful." They stare off into space, still a bit shell-shocked.

"yikes." Sans steps aside, letting them in. "toriel know you're here?"

"Yeah, she uh... said I have to return this." They pull a familiar piece of silverware out of their shirt sleeve, pulling a sheepish face and side-eyeing Sans a bit apologetically.

Sans closes the door behind them, chuckling a bit at the thought of Toriel trying to gently lecture the poor thing about not taking random stuff from their friends' houses for the 111th time. "ah, keep it, kid," he says, waving dismissively at the thing. "she doesn't have to know."

The smallest of smiles lights up Frisk's features. They put the spoon back in their sleeve, then cross their arms, holding it through the fabric with mischievous glee.

"... and hey. frisk?"

"Mhmm?"

"i, uh... i'm sorry about yesterday."

Frisk's smile fades and the sudden angry spark in their dark eyes is much more chilling than it should be.

"i know you'd rather forget when stuff like that happens, and that's fine. just thought i'd inform you that i'm aware of the fact that i'm a big stinkin' doo-doo head and i need to get my priorities straight. 's all i'm gonna say. okay?"

The human looks at him for a moment the way anyone else would look at a food item past its expiration date. Is it too gross? Or can it be salvaged? Maybe there's hope yet. Finally, the kid lifts a hand in a _very_ restrained invitation to a fist bump. Sans gently bumps his knuckles against theirs.

There can be more than one reason for wanting the kid to trust him, he reminds himself. He's not _lying_ about genuinely caring about their feelings. It just so happens to _also_ be a convenient way of keeping the kid out of Fallen's claws for the time being. So really, he's just being pragmatic. Two birds with one stone and all that. He shouldn't feel bad.

"i assume you're here to see krueger junior down there?" Sans nods in the direction of the basement door  in the other room.

Frisk lets the sour attitude fall away and they nod, ducking their head in shame. "Sorry."

"hey, don't be. me and alphys are trying to get asriel working, anything you can do to distract the other one while we work is a welcome change of pace. you ready to see 'em?"

They nod again, brows furrowed, determined as ever. They still don't seem entirely comfortable with being around their literal soul-mate. Sans makes a mental note of this, before leading the way downstairs. In the basement, Chara is still chatting away at Alphys, talking about what a disaster her first meeting with Asriel's real personality is going to be and how much the poor kid is going to fear her for everything she's done to him. Sans unlocks the door to their room and opens it.

" _Hey!_ " sounds a very offended voice from behind the door. Chara must have been sitting leaned up against the entrance. They get to their feet and dust themself off, walking into view of their guests.

Sans blinks slowly, complete disinterest in his lazy glare. "yo. you done? you got company." Frisk looks inside from behind him, lifting their hand in a very small wave.

Chara's expression changes immediately and they back away from the door, waving for Frisk to come in. "Finally! You took your sweet time."

"play nice, okay?" Sans says and makes sure Frisk sees him leave, just like yesterday. He's still right next door, they don't have to be afraid.

When he's gone, Frisk turns to Chara, wringing their hands. "I... kind of have to go to school?"

"Psh. Boring." Chara sits on their bed, leaning against the wall, arms behind their head. "Did mom ever get to be a teacher? I think I saw a glimpse of her in front of a school once. My view was kinda limited, though, being... you know, dead."

Frisk nods, taking a few steps into the room. "She created a school for monsters on the surface. And for me too, kinda."

"You didn't like your old school much, did you?" They've talked about this before. Human kids aren't usually all they're chalked up to be. They're just kinda mean and annoying. "Guess I know where I'll be rotting away soon." They flash a set of shiny white teeth, watching for Frisk's reaction.

Frisk's eyes widen at the thought. "Y... you think Sans and Alphys are going to let you leave?" Their voice wavers slightly, as if they're not quite sure their friends next door should hear this conversation. They clutch the spoon under their sleeve without thinking about it, clinging to it like a safety blanket.

"I'm a growing kid," Chara says, crossing one leg over the other with a much-too-confident smile. "They want me to stay alive, they're going to have to let me outside someday. They told you about that, right? They need me to stay alive, or they know what I'm going to do to you all."

"... Wait." Frisk brushes a lock of their uneven bangs out of their eyes in order to look at Chara properly. "You said you weren't going to hurt anybody. You said you wanted everyone to be happy."

Chara's smirk dies away. Whoops. "Well-" They huff and throw their arms in the air. "Maybe I've changed my mind!" They try to rekindle the haughty grin, but it twists into a snarl. "Maybe this timeline wasn't as spiffy as first anticipated!"

Frisk knows they should be scared. They also know they should've seen this coming. Perhaps they did. Perhaps that's exactly why their first reaction isn't fear. They cock their head to the side, studying the other kid's paler-than-normal face and frazzled hair. "Chara, did you sleep okay?"

The question catches Chara off-guard. They shake their head for a moment, trying to remember what the correct response to the question is. "No. Why?"

"Did something happen?"

It's Chara's turn to try to read Frisk's expression. Can Frisk sense their nervousness? Is it the soul-link thing? That's... that's not fair. That's not fair! " _Why?_ " they repeat, venom leaking into their tone.

Frisk absent-mindedly scratches their elbow. "Because ... I'm ... your friend and I care about your feelings?"

Chara grimaces at the sheer sincerity in those words, as if the notion offends them personally. "Gross!"

The kids stare at each other for a moment. Gross. That's the word Chara settled on. Smooth-talking, eloquent Chara has decided that friendship is, in their own words, 'gross.' A snotty gurgling noise escapes from both of them at the same time. Then they both burst out laughing. Frisk climbs onto the bed and sits next to their ungrateful companion.

"Come on," they say, voice still shaking with laughter. "Tell me what's wrong."

"Nope, no thanks," Chara replies, holding their hand up as if to block out the invisible cloud of rainbows and puppies and good vibes Frisk radiates near-constantly. "Don't need your pity."

"Was it Sans? Was he mean to you? I'm gonna punch him. I'm gonna punch Sans in the ribs."

"You cried when you stepped on a snail down at Blooky's farm. I don't think you're gonna punch Sans."

"I'm gonna do it," Frisk assures them. "I'm gonna punch him."

"The snail was fine. You still cried. The snail had to fetch you a handkerchief. It took three hours."

"Right in the ribs, Chara!"

"Do you still spew goo all over the place when you cry? You're such an ugly crier." Chara cringes at the memory. Thank god they didn't have a corporeal form back then, they're certain Frisk would've cried snot all over them.

"I am not," Frisk mumbles, a bit defensively, but their eyes still have little glittery sparks of amusement lighting up the black and dark brown. They lean their head back against the wall. Okay, so maybe they're not gonna punch a close friend in the ribs just because he's not 100% cool about how he handles having his brother's would-be murderer living in his basement. But Frisk does wish Chara would talk to them. If not about Sans, then about why they can't sleep, why the dark patches under their eyes seem purple-er than usual, why they pretend to have changed their mind. They _are_ just pretending ... right? Chara gets a bit fight-y when they're scared. That must be it. It must be.

Chara doesn't notice their own confidence resurfacing before it's gone again. It takes them a moment to realize why it drained away again so quickly. Then they become aware of the cold fingers interlaced with their own. They squint a bit at the gesture, suspicious. Then they look at Frisk, who seems totally at peace sitting next to them, eyes half-closed, lost in thought.

Things are easier when Frisk doesn't question themself or Chara too much. They're better off leaving all those big, dangerous thoughts to their oh-so-well-meaning 'sibling' - that's what they are, Toriel adopted them both, they're _family,_ it's only right for the older one to look after the younger one and protect them, including from themself.

But Chara can't help but be very, very curious. It must be exhausting, being so nice all the time. Dealing with insult after insult without showing a trace of malice in return. They're a strange one, the little human.

"It's nice," Frisk says, interrupting the other's thoughts. "Being able to sit next to you. You're a lot less scary when you're not in my head."

"You don't have to be scared of me, Frisk," Chara says, voice soft and round at the words' edges. "I'm your friend now, remember?"

Of course. Not that Frisk was ever scared, they remind themself. Chara's nice now. Even when they're ... not. They're just troubled, that's all. _Chara_ is the one who gets scared sometimes. Frisk needs to be patient with them.

"Do you still have my locket?"

"Maybe. Why?"

With their free hand, Chara fishes a golden, heart-shaped piece of jewelry out from under their shirt collar, turning it over a few times as it catches the light. "'Cause then there's two of them now. This body came with one. I guess it's from one of the timelines where I killed you and took it back."

Frisk tries not to think about those timelines too much. They fish out their own locket too, comparing it to Chara's. _Best Friends Forever,_ it says in bright gold lettering. It was a gift from Asriel when the two of them were alive. Really alive. It was supposed to tie the princes together, but Frisk kept it in memory of Asriel. In memory of the person who wished they could have been _Best Friends Forever_ with someone like Frisk instead. Frisk looks between the two identical lockets. They look exactly the same. It strikes them that anyone unfamiliar with their history would probably assume that the lockets were supposed to be mementos of Frisk and Chara's connection instead. It's a strange thought. 'Friends' seems like a very simple description for a very complicated situation.

"I've hurt you so many times," Chara says, turning the locket between the fingers of their free hand. "I've killed you and everyone you love over and over. And still you think I'm the one who needs to be saved? You weirdo."

It's difficult for Frisk to hold a grudge. Chara's ways seem as natural as fire burning and ice freezing. It's just a fact. It's just _them._ Frisk never expected anything else out of them, not after the first few timelines. "Maybe it's weird. But ... mom tried to flamethrower me in the face, when we first met. Undyne threw me off a bridge, and dad tried to stab me with a giant fork. All our friends have tried to rip my soul out of my body while I was still alive. You just so happen to annihilate everyone I know and love once in a while. It's never permanent, anyway. Just like all the times they killed me."

"Best way to get rid of an enemy is to make a friend, right?"

Frisk snaps their fingers. "Exactly!"

"Weirdo," Chara repeats, more to themself than to Frisk, but they're smiling again. More softly, this time. For real. They look at their own warped reflection in the surface of the golden locket. The smile freezes over. Then it fades. "They're... trying really hard to bring Asriel back in there. I mean, they have to let _him_ go eventually, right? He's a wuss, he wouldn't hurt a fly. I can probably get him to bail me out. Then you won't have to deal with Sans hating you, either." Their gaze falls to the floor, thoughts running by their consciousness faster than they can or want to articulate.

Unease crawls back under Frisk's skin. They hadn't thought about how Asriel might react to seeing Chara again. Or the other way around. Perhaps they should be more worried about the latter. "You know, Asriel, he... he didn't know you were listening," they try, replying to a very old conversation. "He still loves you."

Chara says nothing.

Frisk doesn't know what to say, either. But they guess they can always try for honesty, if nothing else. "We both want you here with us. He started time over and over, just because he missed you. Even without a soul, he still..."

"He was still able to pretend that you were a better version of me." Chara looks dead ahead, expression cold and unreadable. "I get it."

"Look at it this way," Frisk tries again. "You made fun of him, tried to steal his soul, got him killed, killed him yourself a dozen times over, and he was _still_ able to miss you, when he couldn't care about anyone else." They put their own locket back under their shirt and push themself off the bed, letting go of Chara's hand with one last squeeze. "You're hard to like, but you're also really difficult not to care about." They turn to give the other a knowing look. "At least for your family."

Chara's gaze lifts just slightly, just enough to look back at Frisk. They don't seem convinced. But they're not willing to fight about it, either.

An alarm sounds from the other room.

" _what's happening?_ "

" _I-I-I d-don't know! Sans, h-help me out here!_ "

The fluorescent lights under the ceiling run a blood red and the alarm pounds like a strained heartbeat through the basement space. Frightened, Frisk steps backwards, head whipping around to look at the fluorescent lamps lighting up and dimming in the rhythm of the blaring noise. They catch Chara's startled expression between the flashes of darkness. The light dims and when it brightens up again, Chara's expression has changed from confusion to determination. They move off the bed and by the time the light comes back a second time, they're standing by the door, fumbling with the lock. Frisk joins them.

"Will this help?" They pull the spoon from their sleeve and hand it to them.

"Perfect." Chara pushes the cutlery's handle into the lock and meddles with it for a moment. Then a noisy _clack_ drowns out the alarm for a second and the door clicks open.

The door across the hallway is unlocked and they push it open together. Inside, the alarm is even louder and orange emergency lights fight back against the pulsating red ones. By her computer, Alphys is frantically flicking switches and skimming walls of text on the monitor while shouting sequences of code at Sans, who's trying to keep up with her at the other side of the room with much less grace. He senses the humans in the door and his concentration breaks as he feels bright red eyes staring at him through the chaos of light and noise.

"SANS!" Alphys shouts over her shoulder, bringing his attention back to the situation at hand.

He shakes his head for a moment, not taking his eyes off Chara's too-familiar glare. "it's not working. nothing's working."

"What's going on?" Chara asks, voice sharp. Frisk hides behind them.

Alphys doesn't bother to explain as she continues working on her own. "We need to get him out of there before the transformation is completed." She pulls a lever on the side of the console. The white fog within Asriel's chamber contracts and darkens until it matches the black glass of the tank next to it.

"no, wait-" Sans runs across the space, quickly reading over the stats on Alphys' monitor. "he's going to kill us. we let him out, we're all dead."

Alphys stands up, shoving her chair to the side and turning on Sans. "Then _they_ can bring us back!" She points a claw at Chara, fear and anger ruining her voice. "I'm not letting him die! I'm not letting him down again!"

Sans holds his hands out, trying to get her to calm down. "it's not permanent, alphys, _nothing is._ but if you let him kills us now, we have no way of knowing when we'll be back, we might not _ever_ come back, it's not worth it, we can't just-!"

The scientist turns her back on Sans again, leaning over her monitor. "I- I'm going to need you to trust me. I mean, I can see why it might be pretty difficult, you being- well, s-stuck on your own for so long, but-"

Seeing no end to their argument, Frisk darts out from behind Chara and waves for them to follow. Before Sans and Alphys can come to an agreement, the kids have worked together to lift Alphys' discarded chair over their heads, and they smash it into the glass of Asriel's chamber at full force. The glass, the lights and the noise crash all at once, and Sans' last _no!_ turns into a choked cough as the black fog fills the room.

Blind in the thick air, Frisk reaches into the tank, feeling their way to a shivering, writhing shape. They hook their arms around the monster and pull, dragging it through an opening between the glass shards and onto the laboratory floor. Immediately, they become aware of it being much, much heavier than it should be. A bit of the smoke clears and an unrecognizable silhouette becomes visible in the dark, shifting and turning in Frisk's arms, fur and horns crawling over a mess of skin and fabric, as though trying to find its proper place, growing and contracting between different sizes and shapes.

" _Asrie-_ " Frisk's voice breaks into a painful cough and they bring their sleeve up to shield their face. "Asriel, it's me!"

The mess gives a violent jerk, pushing Frisk back across the floor, but they hold on, even when a familiar colorful pattern flashes in the dark and jagged, ethereal wings close around the beast.

"You're going to be okay." They hold on with all their might, hiding their face by his wing. "Please be okay..."

Everything stills. The wings slowly wrap tighter around the monster, before pulling over his features like a protective shell. Face, chest, shoulders, curved horns, closed eyes... He looks just like the older version of Asriel Frisk fought when he first absorbed the human souls and the souls of their friends. Then cracks crawl across the monster's skin and fur, fine, silky dust falling from the unconscious beast, shaving down his horns, his fur, his frame-

When the fog finally clears enough for him to catch his breath, Sans looks up, frantically trying to locate Frisk. It only takes him a second. Just enough of the darkness lifts for him to spot them on the floor, arms wrapped close around a small, lifeless shape. Frisk looks up at him in fear. He moves away from the console, away from Alphys, and stands over Frisk, his breathing still ragged and heaving. The thing in their arms still doesn't move, but it's alive. It's so clearly alive. Sans leans down on one knee, sitting across from Frisk. Carefully, he runs his fingertips over the little monster's head. It's solid, no give, no dust. He looks back up at Frisk. Momentary relief must be visible on his face, because Frisk's fear drains from their features instantly.

The child shifts in their arms, a small crease appearing between his brows. Sans quickly moves back to give him some space. Unfocused eyes open, seeing nothing. They move to Frisk's face, but they seem unable to really concentrate. They close again.

"Chara..." Asriel says, one hand closing weakly around Frisk's arm. "I had a bad dream..."

Frisk can feel Chara's eyes on them, but they try to ignore them. "It's okay," they say. "It's over now."

Something lights up in the monster child's expression. He blinks a few times. Looks back up at Frisk. Tries to focus. Tries to remember. "Frisk ..?" The nightmare wasn't exactly a nightmare. "How ..? No, no, you're not supposed to be here, I'll... I'll..." He reaches to push them away, before catching sight of his own paw. He looks at it in surprise, turning it over, opening and closing his fingers.

"You're not gonna do anything," Frisk says. Tears prick at the back of their eyes, but they're happy. Happy tears. "You're home, Asriel."

Slowly, but surely, he sits up. Slowly, but surely, he moves his attention from Frisk to himself, looking over his form as though he's seeing it for the first time. Then he places a paw over his heart. Shakes his head as if to say 'this isn't possible.' "I'm... happy... to see you?" He looks over at Frisk again, as if to ask if that's even possible. Frisk only nods, letting him figure it out for himself. Asriel barely seems to allow himself to hope, but he can't figure out what else could explain this. He's ... he's himself.

"I have a soul ..."

His realizations come to a stop when he looks up. Sees who's standing by the door. Sees who's watching him. A choked gasp escapes him.

"Careful," Frisk warns him, but he pays them no mind, as he pushes himself up off the floor, getting to unsteady feet. He's trembling, hands pressed close to his chest, as if to hold his form together by force. The whole room seems to hold its breath, as he steps over the tiles, slowly, so slowly.

Chara hardly dares to breathe.

Asriel reaches out, hand shaking, though from exhaustion or fear, no one is able to tell. But Chara doesn't move, they don't even flinch. And as Asriel cups the side of their face, they nearly invisibly lean into his touch.

Tears escape the monster child's eyes, painting his fur where they fall. He's completely lost for words. Or maybe he has too many of them - too many questions, too many fears, too many 'this is impossible's and too many 'maybe I'm still dreaming's. But he decides that right now, he doesn't care.

"It's okay," is all he says to his old friend. "I don't blame you, okay?"

Chara's jaw drops slightly. They take half a step back, looking at their brother as if they're just now realizing that it's really him.

Asriel smiles knowingly. Shrugs. "I... won't tell mom, if you won't." He laughs soundlessly.

The other child shakes their head slowly, something in their facade cracking. They look like they want to hug Asriel more than anything else, yet they step back over the floor, not daring to turn their back on him. They bump into the wall. Frisk swears they see tears in their eyes, before they turn and run out the door, back into their room across the hallway. The door slams behind them and the noise of it echoes in the deadly quiet.

Asriel finally stops trembling. But he's still smiling when he turns around. Looking between Frisk, Sans and Alphys, he asks: "So ... can ... can I ask why I'm here?

 

***

 

It seems too good to be true, Asriel thinks. That he's here, Chara is here, they're both back to their old selves and they're both in the right timeline, the right ending, with everyone they love waiting just a door and a staircase away. There's gotta be a catch. There always is... isn't there? Happy endings aren't for people like him and Chara. Not after everything they've done.

It's only after Frisk excuses themself to go check on Chara that Sans admits why he thought to bring them back in the first place. It wasn't exactly out of the goodness of his metaphorical heart, it seems.

"So... you're saying that if Chara... if they don't make it, or they become unstable, or-" Asriel can't finish the thought, but they all know what he's thinking. "If they die, all of this could disappear?" He sits a bit more heavily in the chair they've placed him in.

Sans sticks his hands in his pockets, looking apologetically at the poor kid. "it's a work in progress. it doesn't really fix the issues with the timeline, but without the two of you resetting things every other week, we might be able to buy enough time to figure out how to patch things up permanently. come on, cheer up, kiddo. it's gotta beat being a flower, right?"

Asriel looks doubtful. He rests his gaze on his paws, moving the fingers between each other, as if to make sure his form is really, truly solid. "I did so many horrible things. If I hadn't reset all those times, maybe Chara wouldn't have figured out how to do it either. I put all of reality in danger ..."

"I-it's no use blaming yourself," Alphys says from the other side of the room, where she's sweeping broken glass into a tray. "You didn't mean to, right? Th-that's what counts. If you'd- if you'd been able to- to do it over ..."

"I would," Asriel finishes in a somber tone.

Sans leans against the console next to Asriel. "what matters is that you're here now. you're alive. that means things are able to get better. don't worry about what has been, okay?"

Asriel looks up at him, magenta eyes wet and shining.

"look, even i had my doubts at first, but you're obviously a good kid," Sans continues. "if you'd been in control, you wouldn't have done those things. but you weren't. so hang in there. gut instinct tells me you're the kind of person we want in a permanent future."

Alphys sweeps the remains of the glass into the bin, the shards covering the dead plant at the bottom.

Asriel mulls over Sans' words for a moment, considering them. He seems to mean what he's saying. At least Asriel hopes so. He realizes that he really would like to see this permanent future. Really, he just wants to see _a_ future. Even as a flower, he mourned his own death. Even in his undeath, he couldn't bring himself to end it all. He wants a future. He wants to live. And if that future happens to involve his family, his friends, everyone happy on the surface, then ... he supposes this is kind of a miracle, still.

The door opens and Frisk peeks inside.

Asriel perks up. "How are they?"

Frisk shrugs, scratching the back of their neck a bit nervously. "They don't really wanna talk."

"Guess it's not every day your brother comes back from the dead," Alphys says, shaking her head a bit, eyes on the broken glass.

No one replies.

She perks up, quickly looking at the others one by one. Did she say something wrong? Oh no. She did, didn't she? But what? She racks her brain for possible unfortunate implications. But when nothing pops up, no matter how hard she pushes for the answer, suspicion dulls her anxiety. She really can't think of anything involving dead brothers or coming back to life that would make her comment awkward. She gets back to her task of cleaning up the glass, but her thoughts keep mining away at the subject on the side.

"So, uhm, Sans?" Asriel breaks the awkward silence.

It seems to take the skeleton more than a little effort to properly focus on the other person, but he manages it. "yeah?"

"How is Papyrus?" Asriel forces himself not to stress the 'is'. If Alphys doesn't know how horribly wrong the previous timelines went, he doesn't want to be the one to break it to her. "Is- is he okay? He was always so nice to me, even though I totally didn't deserve it." He smiles a bit at the thought. "He was so cool."

"nice to hear we agree." Sans doesn't usually look tense, but something like discomfort still seems to melt right out of him at Asriel's words, and he sends the little one a bright, easy grin. "papyrus is having the time of his life, dude. he's helping the others out building a new capital. hey, guess what it's called."

"Oh no," Asriel sighs, already sorely embarrassed. "My dad's naming it, isn't he? It's probably like... New New Home or something."

"close. it's newer home."

He groans, sinking back into his chair with a pained expression. "Dad, why ..."

Frisk presses their lips tightly together, trying to silence a very undignified giggle, but it's practically impossible. They remember when Toriel dryly asked Asgore if he'd come up with any brilliant new ideas for their capital's name and the poor guy had stumbled through a list of _Surface Home? Island Home?_ and finally _New New Home?_ Toriel had almost looked sorry for her struggling ex-husband for a second, but then he settled on Newer Home without missing a beat and whatever sympathy she felt for him disappeared immediately. Their friends all laughed at her misfortune, and Undyne patted Asgore on the shoulder, managing to say something along the lines of 'good game, old man', before succumbing to another fit of laughter. They all decided Newer Home was the only proper continuation of their proud tradition of horrible names, and so it was decided.

In that moment, Frisk's phone rings, bringing them out of their memories. They take it out of their pocket and look at the display. It says 'MOM' in bright green letters. They quickly shush the others before picking up. Toriel's voice sounds at the other end of the line, asking Frisk if they're still at Sans and Papyrus'? She's home now, if they'd like some help with their homework? She brought spider muffins home, Muffet is having another bake sale next door and-

Frisk nods at their phone, before realizing their mistake. "Uhm, I mean yeah, I'm coming home! Okay, see you, mom. Bye. I love you too. Bye!" They end the call and put the phone back in their pocket.

"You call her 'mom!'"

Frisk freezes up, cheeks dark red. Should they tell him they're sorry? Toriel was kinda his mom first. Or is that not how it works? "You did tell me to look after your parents, so ..."

Asriel only laughs and reassures Frisk that he _thinks_ there's enough of his mom and dad to go around, which prompts Sans to jokingly scold him for talking smack about his parents behind their backs. Asriel tells him _that's not what he meant, don't tell mom I said that, come on, that's mean-!_ Even Alphys can't help but laugh along despite her worries.

After a goodbye-hug with Asriel and some awkward parting words to a still-unresponsive Chara, Frisk heads home. Mostly to avoid making their mother suspicious, but also because Muffet makes a mean spider muffin. Literally. It's quite badly mannered for something that probably shouldn't still be alive, but it also tastes awesome, so it's cool. Toriel says it's just magic, and for the sake of their mental health, Frisk has decided not to question it.

Sans and Alphys agree that keeping Asriel and Chara for a little longer is probably for the best. Alphys is especially adamant about not telling Toriel or Asgore about Asriel and Chara before they're sure both children are stable in their new forms.

For Asriel, the rest of the day passes with test after test, scans and heartbeat monitors, dust samples in colorful potions and a strange electricity-based magic that makes his fur stand on end. He still isn't healthy, the dubious science reveals. Though he looks, talks, feels alright, the seams on his soul and essence are still visible, the cracks separating his components still form dark patterns across his being, invisible to the naked eye. But at least the seams are holding. At least he's not coming undone. It's a start.

He wants to see Chara. He wants to talk to Frisk. But evening comes quicker than any of them realize. Papyrus is going to come home soon. He can't know Asriel and Chara are there. He can't. Not yet.

"Do I really have to stay here all on my own?" Asriel's eyes dart around the empty room Sans and Alphys have prepared for him, the one next to the lab, and his hands come up to toy with one of his ears, absentmindedly stroking the soft fur as he tries to calm himself. "Can't I stay in Chara's room? I wanna stay with Chara. We used to share my room back ... before."

Sans and Alphys exchange a glance. That doesn't seem like a good idea. At all.

Sans draws air in between his teeth in a kind of pained reverse sigh. "i'm sorry," he says. "i ... think it's best if we keep the two of you apart. for now." He tries to laugh off the kid's downtrodden expression. "hey, cheer up, pal. you'll get to hang out soon enough. we just gotta make sure it's safe first, y'know?" He lifts his shoulders in the most innocuous shrug he can muster.

"Chara isn't dangerous," Asriel mumbles with a bit more force than absolutely necessary, though he's still not looking at Sans. "And I'm not either."

"We know," Alphys cuts in before Sans can reply. She approaches Asriel, hands clasped in what might as well be prayer. "B-but _please_ try to understand. We don't want to lose you now, a-and we- we don't know wh-what's going to happen next. We _need_ to keep you in a controlled environment until we can run some more tests. I-it's for your own good, okay?"

Asriel lifts his gaze to meet hers, seemingly searching her expression for any sign that she's lying, any sign that she's keeping Chara from him for other reasons.

"We want you to be safe." She kneels down to his level, curling her tail around herself. "Please let me- let _us_ protect you."

He looks at her for another moment. Then he hangs his head with a pout. There seems to be no other way. He can only hope that Chara will be alright on their own. He always hated leaving them alone. Now, in this strange new time and place, it's even worse. Defeated, he sulks back to the bed in the corner and sits down on the edge of it. He supposes they can't keep him and Chara here forever. Maybe if he's just patient enough, they'll let him out sooner. "When are you coming back?"

Alphys looks to Sans, who answers without missing a beat. "tomorrow morning. as early as we can."

"If you need anything," Alphys says, fumbling through her pockets under her lab coat for a moment, "and- and I mean anything _,_ anything at all, you can call us! I put both of us on speed dial." She fishes out a spare phone, an old brick-like one she didn't have the time to upgrade. "Th-the phone's got games, too, there's like... well, there's something with a space ship, I think? It's uh, it's p-pretty cool. For a dinosaur of a phone, I mean." She snorts and rolls her eyes. She's gotta upgrade this thing tomorrow, if leaving a kid locked in a basement for fourteen hours isn't some kind of punishable crime, then leaving him with a shoddy century-old phone _must_ be.

"Thanks," Asriel says as Alphys gives him the phone, though he doesn't look very grateful at all. He opens the menu and locates the games section. He supposes it's better than staring at a wall until he falls asleep. Kind of.

"if you need us, we're right upstairs," Sans tries to reassure him. He turns in the doorway. It can't be long before Papyrus comes home. As far as his brother knows, these doors are _locked,_ after all, and not currently serving as the only thing standing between what remains of the most dangerous forces in the Underground and the rest of existence. Sans would like to keep it that way.

Alphys joins him in the door, casting one last worried glance at Asriel. "T-try not to worry too much, okay? Everything's g-gonna be just fine. You're- well, safe now, you know? It's all over." She manages a smile for him. "It's all going to get better now." Finally.

Asriel looks up from the phone long enough to watch the door close. He can hear Sans and Alphys whisper to each other as they ascend the stairs. Then the door on the ground floor slams shut as well, and the silence grows very, very loud.

It's only a matter of time. Only a matter of time. They'll be back soon. He's waited this long, he can be trapped alone underground for one more night.

It's been 100 years.

He can wait just one more night.

 

***

 

" _Mommy! Daddy! Somebody help..!_ "

" _H-hey, it's going to be okay. We're okay now._ "

_"I can't f-feel a n y t h i n g."_

_"Yes, you can! We have our soul back! Stop crying! Big kids don't cry."_

_"We're not kids anymore. We'll never be again. It's ruined."_

_"Don't say that."_

_"Ruined."_

_"Stop!"_

 

***

 

Asriel does not remember the dream. He wakes up in a cold sweat, memories bleeding together in a tangle he can't concentrate on picking apart, something loud and painful blaring in his ears that he only identifies as his own heartbeat after closing his paws over them, magnifying the noise until stars bloom under his eyelids. He feels nauseous. Ill. The kind of sick, hair-raising ill that comes from incredible pain and leaves the mind slow and murky and dark. He tries to sit up, but the sheets feel like quicksand and he sinks back down over and over until panic flares a searing white in his head and he twists and writhes until he's sitting upright, limbs numb.

The light switch seems to move, when he reaches for it. He gives up on it and grabs at the phone next to his pillow instead. It seems slippery, somehow, and it takes him incredible effort to keep a hold on it while he presses the button on its side. The display lights up.

Asriel drops the object with a start.

He looks at his own hands in the dark, turning them over and flexing his fingers, just like he did this afternoon. But they're no longer solid. The pads stick together, the fur is dripping off the backs of his hands.

"No ..."

He tries to grab at the phone again, but it sinks right through his fingers, landing on the floor with a sickening wet noise. Dust sinks into it and the display goes out with a hiss.

This can't be happening. Not now. He's only just come back, he can't die already, not again, _he doesn't want to leave-_

Slipping out from under the covers, he moves across the floor, every step a struggle to stay on his feet. He leans on the door, trying to catch his breath. It's locked.

"Chara ..." He's not sure if he's saying the name out loud. "Ch-Chara, can you hear me ..?" Warm tears spill down his face, carving black streaks into his face. "Please ... Help me ..."

The darkness seems to thicken around him. Or is it all in his head?

"I know this is all my fault ... I know you're mad at me ..." His hands clutch the door handle so tightly he's trembling. "I didn't mean for this to happen, I- I'm sorry I didn't trust you, but it wasn't- it wasn't right-!" His voice breaks. "Please don't be mad ... I want to see you again, just once- just-"

It's dark outside still. He's sure of it. He can feel the moon under his skin.

"Please ..." He leans his forehead against the door. " _Please ..._ " If he closes his eyes, he's afraid they'll melt shut. "Don't let me die."

It takes him a moment to realize that the thumping in his head is out of sync with his heart. It's coming from outside.

" _Asriel? Did you say something?_ "

Asriel opens his mouth to cry out again, but no sound escapes him. He tries again, but his throat loses form, closes up. Tears fall on his hands, burning through the surface. Sobs wrack his melting form.

A loud _clack_ echoes through the hallway outside. Then the door handle moves between his hands. He steps back and ends up tripping over himself, falling backwards onto the tiles. The lock clicks.

"Hey, are you-" Chara stops mid-sentence.

 The faint light from their own room silhouettes them in the doorway, and Asriel can't see their expression.

Silence slithers into the room, thick and heavy with dread. Should- should he regret calling for help? Should he regret calling for Chara, of all people?

For once, would it have been better if nobody came?

"Of course," Chara sighs, slipping the tool they used to unlock the door back into their sleeve. "You _would_ find a way to end up like this." They're smiling, Asriel's sure of it, he can hear that familiar toothy grimace dripping from their words, sweet as rot. "Same old Asriel. I'm happy to know it's really you, if nothing else."

They move, and he tries to dodge out of the way, but his limbs feel like lead, and before he knows what's happening, Chara has wrapped his arm over their shoulders, taking half his weight upon themself.

"Cha- ra-?"

"You're- you're going to be alright." Their voice is shaking. The smile clinging to their words leans on whispered hysteria. "You're not gonna die, okay? I won't let you. Come on." They affectionately bump their head against his, and Asriel catches a glimpse of their eyes, wide with barely-contained panic. "Come on, come on-" They brace against the floor and help him stand, carrying him more than anything.

"I'm sorry-"

"Don't be." They laugh to keep their words from drowning in the knot in their throat. Their tone falls, low and broken. "We're terrible. That's who we are. You said so yourself, remember?" They drag him through the doorway and make for the stairs.

No, they're not. They were just kids. They're still kids.

"I was so alone," Asriel sobs. "I missed you. I just wanted you back."

"Hey-" Chara stops on the first step, trying to keep the melting shape in their arms upright. He's fading. "Hey-hey-hey, look at me-! Asriel, look- I'm here, okay? We're both here. We're back, we made it."

"You made it," Asriel mutters. He leans his head against Chara. "And maybe... maybe that's all that matters..."

His wrist slips from Chara's grasp and they wrap both of their arms around him, hauling him up one step, two steps-

" _Sans! Papyrus!_ " The concrete swallows their cries. But in turn, Chara swallows their fear. This is not over.

After all, the only way left to go is up.

They tighten their hold on the monster child and push away from the stair step, onto the next, away from that one, on to the next. Asriel makes a pained noise and Chara tries not to think about the fact that he's getting lighter by the second.

"Hang on," they tell him.

Thankfully, the door to the next floor is unlocked. They push it open with their shoulder, stumbling into the small room.

"Sans!" they call again. "Where are you when we need you!? _Help_ me!"

Steps sound from the ceiling, from the floor above.

" _SANS, I BELIEVE THERE'S SOMEONE IN THE HOUSE."_

_"papyrus, wait-!_ "

The creaking of stairs sound from the other room. Chara moves to meet who's coming down, still clinging to the now unconscious monster in their arms. Papyrus stumbles into view, rubbing sleep from his eye sockets. His mouth drops open in disbelief at the scene in front of him.

"OH DEAR."

"no-no-no, wait, wait-" Sans comes rushing down after him, looking just about ready to pick up his brother and carry him back upstairs, if need be. But when he sees what Papyrus is looking at, he gives up on whatever he had intended.

Chara stares back at him, barely-concealed, ice-cold rage in their bloodshot eyes. "Fix him."

"I-I'M SORRY, HUMAN, I DON'T THINK-" Papyrus is interrupted when a neon blue glow creeps over the broken monster kid, lifting it from the human's arms.

"back to the lab," Sans instructs Chara, before leading the way.

"BROTHER, I DON'T UNDERSTAND-!"

"papyrus, call alphys! say it's an emergency!"

 

***

 

Frisk has trouble sleeping, sometimes. It's not too bad. Toriel makes sure they get enough rest during the day, when the nights are too troublesome. And when neither work, she takes the day off and stays at home with them all day, watching movies with them, reading to them, holding their hand, keeping dark thoughts away. Nothing is more important to her than Frisk, she says. School is just going to have to wait.

So really, Frisk isn't too upset when they're still awake at 2am, staring holes into the ceiling.

That is, until they hear voices outside.

" _Alphys, what the hell?_ "

" _I-i-it's fine, d-don't worry about it! Go back inside!_ "

They can hear Undyne continue to argue, voice still thick from sleep, trying to get her girlfriend to explain what's going on.

Frisk sits up. Hops onto the floor, runs to the window. Alphys is on her way to Sans' house, Undyne right behind her, both monsters still in the process of putting their coats on over their pajamas. Without missing a beat, Frisk leaves their room and heads for the front door, quickly hopping into their shoes and pulling their jacket down from the hall tree.

The door to their mom's room creaks open and Toriel appears, looking at the human perplexedly.

"Is everything alright, my child?" she asks, fighting back a yawn. "Frisk, dear, you're not sneaking out in the middle of the night?"

Frisk frantically shakes their head and zips up their jacket. "I'll be right back."

They can hear Toriel calling for them as they run into the street, but there's no time to explain. They cross the cul-de-sac's center, stepping rain-soaked, withered leaves into the asphalt, moving through the yellow street lights. The door to Sans' and Papyrus' house is slightly ajar and they slip inside without a sound.

"Papyrus, don't be ridiculous!" sounds Undyne's exasperated voice from the utility room in the back.

"I AM SORRY, BUT I HAVE MY ORDERS."

Frisk moves through the living room, tracking foot prints across the floorboards. In the back room, Papyrus is blocking the open doorway to the basement, arms crossed over his chest. Voices can be heard from down the stairs. Undyne is standing in front of him, shivering a bit, seemingly from both cold and lingering tiredness. She pulls her coat tighter around herself. Then she notices Frisk.

"Ugh, thank god," she grumbles, stepping aside to let Frisk into the small room. "Frisk, think you can convince bonehead here not to let my girlfriend run into creepy basements in the middle of the night without backup?"

Frisk shrugs with a forced smile, not entirely sure they can pull that off. They look to Papyrus, expression turning serious. "Papyrus, I really need to know what's happening down there. Please let me through."

Papyrus' assertive stance falters slightly in the face of the child's request. His arms fall to his sides and his shoulders fall. "APOLOGIES, FRISK. SANS ASKED ME NOT TO LET ANYONE THROUGH EXCEPT FOR ALPHYS. HE SOUNDED VERY UPSET."

"Then maybe you should help him instead of trusting him blindly," Undyne cuts in.

The front door slams shut and Toriel enters the small room less than a second later.

"Frisk, please do not run off like that," she says before looking to Papyrus and Undyne. "What in the world is going on here? What are you all doing here at this hour of night?"

Papyrus shakes his head, about to tell her that even he doesn't know, but he's trusting his brother to have his reasons, whatever it is, he's sure it's-

But he never gets to speak. The voices from the basement grow louder as the door to the lab swings open.

"H-he's going to be fine. It's- it's a good thing you were there, I mean-" Alphys gives up on whatever she's trying to say. "You should get some rest."

"I told you I'm not tired. I'm not leaving him alone."

Toriel stops dead in her tracks.

"There's n-nothing you can do for him now, I promise he's going to be okay!"

"I'm staying with him."

Her gaze is fixed on something behind Papyrus. Slowly, her hands come up to cover her mouth, as if to stop herself from making even the smallest noise.

"D-don't do this to yourself, everything is alright-"

Chara prepares to argue, but then they notice the light filtering in from the open doorway at the top of the stairs. They turn and look up.

Frisk watches their mother with bated breath. Seeing the look on the former queen's face, Papyrus steps aside and follows her gaze. On the concrete floor below, the child who looks so much like Frisk is staring back up at her, light reflecting in their gleaming gaze. Behind them, Alphys is frozen in terror.

Toriel doesn't notice her.

She doesn't notice anyone else.

The child closes in on the stairs. The basement is so very dark, but their eyes are used to it by now. On the first stair step, they hear leftover dust - Asriel's dust - crunching under the sole of their shoe. On the second step, the noise is drowned out by their own slow, trembling breath. On the third, they narrow their eyes, trying to read their mother's expression. And on the fourth, they give up. They'll know what she's thinking soon enough. For better or for worse.

Chara pauses on the second to last step, just out of reach of the artificial light.

Slowly, Toriel kneels, wiping away tears obscuring her vision, not even daring to blink. Then she reaches her hands out to the child in the shadows.

It's an invitation. A patient one. Just like the first time. The first, the second, the third. All the times Chara ran away and hid, all the times they wanted to be alone, to be forgotten in the dark. It's where they belong, this they know. And yet here she is again. Even after 100 years.

They hope the others don't see the shimmer in their eyes when they leave the doorway. They hope Frisk doesn't see their cold hands shiver, when they place them in Toriel's warm ones.

"Is ..." Her voice is so, so thin. "Is it really you?"

Chara cracks a small, lopsided smile, looking almost sorry just for being there. They try to blink away the water in their eyes. Toriel pulls them into her arms, holding them as though they were made of glass, burying them in her massive embrace. She can't bring herself to cry. This must be a dream. Just like all the other dreams where she sees her children again.

Over their heads, Papyrus and Undyne exchange a puzzled look, but they understand that now is not the time to ask questions. Sans appears on the stairway, pausing on the same step that Chara did. He watches mother and child, and though he knows- he _knows_ nothing is permanent, he knows this could all disappear yet - for just this one moment in time, he can't bring himself to care. Maybe the fact that this gets to take place in any time and place at all is enough on its own. If this is the last time he gets to see this unfold, the last time he gets to see his friend reunited with her child, he'll let it happen. And he won't blame himself for messing up. And he won't ask himself if this is right or wrong. He'll allow himself to think, just in this one moment, that he already knows the answer.

After a long moment, Toriel pulls away, still holding the little human close to her. "How is this possible?" She brushes a few stray hairs from Chara's face, wanting to look at them properly. "Chara." She says the name with so much fondness, so much love.

"It's ... kind of complicated," Chara admits. Nearly stumbling over their words, they quickly add: "Asriel's here too. He ... had an accident and he's recovering right now, but he's here too."

Toriel opens her mouth to answer, but she realizes that no words would suffice. They're here. They're both here. This _must_ be a dream. So why does it feel so real?

In the end, she can only pull Chara back into her arms, holding them close. They hide their face in her shoulder, breathe deeply, relax in a way they'd almost forgotten they'd been able to, once. A sob escapes them and they cling a little closer to their mom. Because that's what she is. Even after 100 years. Their mom.

Still cradling her child, Toriel lifts her head and looks at Sans. "What did you do?" Her brittle voice is saturated with fear. "What did you do to my children?"

Sans hopes she can see the sorrow, the regret in his eyes. It wasn't supposed to go like this. This is not how he wanted her to find out. For a second, he fumbles for the edges of a lie, tries to weave something softer than the cold, hard truth, but it won't suffice. Toriel is his friend. Asriel and Fallen are her kids. She deserves to know the truth.

He supposes they all do. Finally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3 is nearing its final draft and 7 more oneshots are currently in the works for this series.   
> As always, ya'll are formally invited to come chat with me over on tumblr (thesketcherlass.tumblr.com)! There's a massive amount of headcanons and speculation over there, about the game and characters in general, and about this fic's verse, it's fun, you should come with ok, it's good


	3. Welcome to Somewhere Else

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fallout. The aftermath. The final chapter in the intro arc.
> 
> As always, thank you so, so much to everyone who have left kudos and comments, especially the super in-depth ones, and thank you to my awesome betas, Starfog and ShtiyaJust4You.

"Wait, so let me get this straight," Undyne interrupts Sans' explanation. "You're saying that time has broken in the Underground somehow, but no one but you and these kids ever noticed. And the princes, these _children_ who have been dead for over 100 _years_ have been abusing these time cracks, rewinding time over and over because... why did they do this, again?"

Sans sighs, thinking back to all the other times they've had this conversation Undyne doesn't remember. He can't even be sure this is the last time he'll have to explain it to her. "i dunno. boredom, maybe. frustration." He looks over at Chara, but the kid remains quiet. He has purposely left out any mention of what exactly them and Flowey got up to in those saved-over timelines. It's better if no one knows. He needs Fallen to choose this existence over all the others they've ever had and he doubts they'd feel much at home with bars on their window or a spear between the eyes.

Sans, Toriel, Chara, Undyne and Papyrus are gathered around the table in the living room, jackets discarded by the door, Toriel still in her long night gown, Undyne in her pyjamas, Sans and Papyrus in ratty t-shirts and boxers. They don't look like the kind of people who should be discussing the time/space-continuum at 3am, but here they are.

They can hear Frisk and Alphys talking downstairs. Chara refused to leave Asriel unless Frisk watched over him in their stead. Now they're sitting close to Toriel, half-asleep, her arm around them like a fuzzy make-shift blanket. They haven't said a word since Sans began his explanation.

"the point is that i've found a way to stop it," Sans continues. "it doesn't fix the problem with the broken time stream, but at least time might actually flow in the right direction for a while now. 's a big step forward."

Toriel's brows furrow. It's a lot to take in. "And you're saying that all this time ... my children were out there all alone? Unable to reach out, left to fend for themselves?" She brushes a paw over Chara's hair, the movement stiff, betraying the building terror she's fighting so hard to push aside.

"not ... the way you know them," Sans replies. "flo- i mean, asriel was resurrected in a physical form, but without his soul, he wasn't himself. chara there was just the remains of a soul clinging to this reality by a thread."

"But now they're here to stay?" It sounds less like a question and more like an order.

Sans bows his head, submitting to her command. "for as long as i can keep 'em here. like i said, asriel is still struggling to keep a physical form, but we're working on it. if everything goes according to plan, both of them are gonna be able to continue where they left off a century ago no problem."

Toriel considers his words for a moment. She digs a fang into her lip, deep in thought, and leans back into the couch, closing her arm just a little more tightly around Chara. Is this really possible? Can it really be so easy? They're back, just like that? She feels like there's something she's overlooked, but she can't for the life of her figure out what it is. Finally, she looks back up at Sans.

 "Thank you," she says. "For bringing my children back to me. I can barely stand to hope that this is reality and that I am not stuck in a dream too good to last, as I often am. But for the time being... for however long I will be able to be with them, for hours or decades ... I thank you. For a perfect dream, or a reality too good for me to fully trust."

Sans isn't really the type to get misty-eyed, in part because he has no eyes, in part because it takes a whole lot of caring to achieve such a state, but if he was, he's certain he would've been so by now. This can't possibly be wrong. This may be rushed and not at all how he'd planned for the situation to go, but it just can't be wrong. Not when she looks at him like that. It just can't be.

 He looks over at Papyrus, who's been as quiet as Chara through all of this.

"hey. you alright, bro?"

"I can't believe I forgot," Papyrus says, voice unusually quiet. He narrows his eyes, his white pupils tracing the swirling patterns in the table's wooden surface. "We were supposed to fix all of this, but I ... forgot."

Sans places a reassuring hand on his back, nodding in understanding. Undyne looks between the two of them, trying to decipher exactly what they mean by that. She chooses to keep quiet for now. Her friend looks upset.

Toriel senses it too. Tonight has been eventful enough for all of them, she decides. She asks Sans: "May I see my son? I do not suppose he will be able to leave tonight."

"there's not much to look at, to be fair," Sans says, but he still stands up, ready to lead her downstairs. "he had a pretty nasty episode right before you came here. he's okay for now, there's nothing to worry about, but he needs to stay on life support until tomorrow, at least."

Toriel nods decisively. "Then I shall stay with him. Please take me to him."

"I'm coming too," Undyne says, peeling herself off the couch. "Someone's gonna have to pry Alphys away from all the nerd stuff down there." She flashes a tired, toothy grin in Sans' general direction. "It's weird, all this time I thought you were just a creepy slob with too much time on your hands, but you're actually a creepy slob with a mission. I can respect that. Even if half of what you're saying sounds like complete bull to me."

Sans tips an imaginary hat, grinning back.

Toriel gently pushes Chara into an upright position, holding them steady. "We're going to go check on your brother now. Do you want to come?"

Chara sits up straight, eyes darting around the room to orientate themself after their short almost-nap. "Yeah."

Toriel takes their hand and the both of them join Sans and Undyne. Before leaving for the basement, Sans looks back at Papyrus, who hasn't moved.

"you stayin' here, i'm gathering?"

"Uhm, yes!" Papyrus doesn't look at him. "It's fine, go on without me, I'll just be here... sitting."

"'course. 's an important job. someone's gotta do it."

Sans' tone earns him a mock-wry glare from his brother.

"You're a riot and a half, aren't you?"

"i do my best."

Papyrus is too exhausted to even pretend to be mad. For a few drawn-out seconds, the two of them just stand there, grinning stupidly at each other. It's been a long, long time since they've both truly been themselves. Since they've been on the same side. Since they've understood each other. And they're scared, both of them, of course they are, but at the very least they're not alone. Not anymore. And that's worth celebrating in its own way. That's worth being happy about.

Consequences be damned.

 

***

 

Toriel stays awake all night, sitting in Chara's bed with Frisk and Chara sleeping on either side of her, curled up in her arms. The doors between the room and the laboratory across from it stay open, so she can keep Asriel's chamber within her line of sight. With Undyne's help, Sans and Alphys have managed to create a magical barrier to replace the broken glass. Now the tank is fogged over again, keeping the monster within alive.

Sometime in the early hours of morning, Chara twitches in their sleep, eyes moving under their closed lids. Toriel is about to comfort the child herself, but before she can move, Frisk reaches across her and holds Chara's hand. Both kids are still dead asleep. Toriel looks between them, puzzled and more than a bit spooked. She ... never did get around to asking how the two of them knew each other, did she? She makes a mental note to remember to do so in the morning.

Thankfully, it's Saturday and no one is in too much of a hurry to get up after the kind of night they've had. Around 9am, Toriel can hear footsteps upstairs. Half an hour later, she can hear Papyrus berating his brother for sleeping in, as though last night never happened. Soon Alphys' and Undyne's voices can be heard as well, and Frisk starts to stir.

They yawn into the back of their hand and sit up. "G'morning."

"Good morning, dear," Toriel says quietly.

Chara opens their eyes without moving an inch, looking at Frisk with a dead expression.

"And good morning to you too," Frisk says with a short laugh. Another yawn catches them off guard. They stretch their arms over their head, and then they scoot past their mom, so they can stand up at the foot of the bed.

Chara's eyes follow them until they're out of sight. They make no move to get up. Carefully, Toriel scoops them up, and then she follows Frisk into the lab across the hallway, carrying Chara on one arm. Nothing has changed overnight, of course. The bluish-green magical glass still holds, keeping the fog inside the air tank. Frisk reaches out and draws a heart in the condensation gathered on the outside of the barrier.

Chara makes an almost growl-like noise. "Don't do that." The hand holding onto Toriel's shoulder tightens around the fabric of her dress.

"He's not in danger anymore," Frisk tries to soothe them. "Alphys says it's totally safe in there."

Chara's cold glare doesn't soften. Giving up on arguing, Frisk stands close to Toriel and reaches their hands up, opening and closing their fingers. Toriel understands the hint, crouches down to their level and lets Chara get to the floor. Frisk closes their arms around their sibling. After a moment's hesitation, Chara squeezes their eyes shut and they return the gesture with a little more force than necessary. Maybe they need this, Frisk thinks, and hugs them tighter. Something to ground them.

It takes a few hours before Asriel is ready to be freed again. Alphys keeps fretting over his values, checking and double-checking that everything is in order. Sans tries to get her to calm down a bit, worried that she's going to upset Toriel - or worse yet, Fallen. If there's one thing he's not interested in, it's having that little fiend breathing down his neck while he's trying to work.

When everything is ready, Frisk, Toriel, Sans, Alphys and Undyne gather near the tank. Chara stands by the doorway watching them, Papyrus standing guard next to them in case of ... well, he's not sure, but he' s certain he's being useful.

Alphys pulls the lever on the console next to her and the fog is drained from the chamber. Undyne lifts the magical barrier.

Inside the chamber sits Asriel all curled up into himself. Slowly, he lifts his head from his knees, eyes blinking open. A jolt runs through his tiny body as he remembers what happened, and he quickly looks over himself, hands shaking as he wringes them, testing the surface, desperately searching for imperfections or melted spots.  But there are none to be found. With trembling breath, his movements slow again. He buries his face in his hands, trying to get the panic inside to disappear, trying to repress the memory of disappearing, of falling, of-

Toriel sits on her knees in front of the chamber. "Asriel?" she calls softly.

Asriel immediately stops shaking. He opens his eyes under his palms. He looks up. Looks at his mother.

"It's alright, my dear," she continues, struggling to keep her voice from breaking. She reaches out a paw for him to take. "You're back."

A second later, her son is in her arms, face buried against her collarbone.

From the doorway, Chara watches with the same dead expression they've had since they woke up. Seemingly placated, they turn and leave for their room without a word, just like they did yesterday. No one but Papyrus seems to notice, and he makes no move to stop the mysterious child who looks so much like his other human friend.

 

***

 

Somehow, despite the kind of night and morning they've had, somehow, despite the lives they've had, breakfast still becomes a thing, as though this was a Saturday like any other. Somehow. According to the clock, it's more along the lines of lunch, but they have time. All the time in the world. Somehow.

Somehow.

Toriel talks to her son as though he'd merely come home from a sleepover with a friend or a trip with his old school, and if she stutters a little, if her breath hitches, if her lower lip trembles between words, then no one mentions it. If she stares at him when he looks away, if she can barely keep herself from holding his hand or hugging him every other minute, no one mentions it.

He never minded his parents being clingy, she remembers. Not until Chara showed up. Suddenly, affection was embarrassing. But Chara isn't here now and- well. Something tells Toriel that he wouldn't mind, even if they were.

Something about him is different. The way he talks, the way he moves. It's not exactly confidence, but it's ... something like it. He speaks his mind more. Laughs more. When he looks her in the eyes, there's a gentle defiance in his gaze, though it isn't aimed at her.

She isn't sure why, but she's suddenly certain that she knows exactly what kind of king he would have become. The kind of king he's _going_ to become. She feels safe knowing that her people's fates lie in his hands. It occurs to her that this means that she's going to age again. That her time is suddenly limited. And so is ...

At some point after breakfast-lunch, Toriel goes outside to call Asgore. Alphys quickly suggests that Frisk and Asriel go bring Chara some food. The king and the ex-queen still don't quite get along like they used to, maybe seeing his parents interact isn't one of the first things Asriel wants to experience in his new life. Besides, Chara still hasn't left their room in the basement since they left their mother and brother to have their own reunion. Frisk quickly stacks a few pieces of bread on a plate, takes Asriel by the hand and leaves for the basement.

Somehow, the fluorescent lights seem softer today. Warmer. Shadows are brown instead of blue, and their outlines are blurry, not dagger-sharp and intimidating. Frisk wonders if the house is finally coming to terms with the creatures living in its bowels.

Asriel knocks on Chara's door.

No answer.

He looks at Frisk, tense with concern. Frisk brushes their thumb over the back of his paw.

"Chara, it's us," they call softly, hoping their friends upstairs won't hear them. No one needs to know how difficult Chara can be. Not anyone who isn't already aware of it, anyway.

"We've got, uh... I think it's human food?" Asriel looks at the plate Frisk is holding. "Maybe like... human bread or something. It's actually pretty gross, it's all heavy and scratchy. Uhm, but it's still pretty good, so-"

The door creaks open just a tad. A single red eye peeks through the dark on the other side. Chara takes the plate from Frisk and goes back inside. But they leave the door open.

Deciding to interpret that as a come-on-in, Frisk leads the way inside, a slightly spooked Asriel right behind them. Refusing to deal with their friend's whole chamber-of-evil schtick, Frisk turns on the light, ignoring the little demon spawn's hissing noises. Chara sits on their bed, wolfing down the bread as if they hadn't eaten in days. Which, Frisk realizes, they probably haven't. Refusing to take food from Sans and Alphys is exactly the kind of nonsense they would get up to. Frisk sits at the opposite end of the bed, pulling their legs up and tugging the covers over themself.

Asriel just stands awkwardly in the middle of the room, looking at Chara like he's simultaneously seeing his first sunrise and gazing into the abyss, hoping it doesn't gaze back. Naturally, it does - or well, _they_ do - and he quickly looks away, smiling a bit apologetically.

After giving them time to eat in peace for a bit, he finally dares to speak up. "Mom's calling dad right now. He's probably gonna be here soon."

Chara gives a single nod in acknowledgement. They finish their plate and then they place it on the stack of comic books still hanging out on the chair. They stiffen for a moment, holding their hand over the top of their chest and swallowing a few times, having eaten too fast for their body to catch up. It passes and they cough a bit.

"I really missed them," Asriel continues. "Or maybe I uhm... missed... missing them." He scratches his elbow, looking away.

This wasn't the kind of reunion he'd been hoping for during all those resets.

Without even looking at him, Chara gets back to the floor. They go over to try the door handle. The door clicks open. They could leave right now, if they wanted to. They suppose they could've left a while ago, to be fair. Why haven't they? It's not like there's anything for them here.

Asriel keeps talking. "I- I wanted to thank you. For, you know... not letting me die last night. That was nice of you, I guess."

"You're ..." Chara's voice is hoarse. "... _thanking_ me?" Slowly, they close the door. When they turn to look at Asriel over their shoulder, their face is contorted in a mix of disgust and disbelief. "For not letting you _die?_ "

Asriel tilts his head in confusion, trying to read the other's expression. "Y-yeah. I mean, it would've been easier to pretend you didn't hear me. You really didn't have to save me. But you did anyway." He shouldn't be smiling right now, but he can't help it. For so long, he's been looking for proof that Chara still cares in some way. That they ever cared in the first place. If not as much as he cared about them, then just ... something close to it. And this - this is proof, right? This counts, doesn't it?

Chara's wide eyes turn to sullen slits and the permanent flush on their face spreads like a tiny little wildfire. "You're just like everyone else," they say. They turn back to the closed door, tilting their head to hide their eyes under their bangs. "You always expect the worst of me."

Asriel looks to Frisk, but they're as perplexed as he is. What's that supposed to mean?

"Frisk, Sans, Alphys," they continue. "Mom, probably. You all think I'm stupid. That I'd hurt people for no reason. Like I'm just some animal you put a muzzle on."

Frisk tries to read the slow, trembling pulse emanating from their friend's soul. It feels just like it did when they first met again two days ago. Young. Clear, somehow. Maybe even clearer than before. Is this what a normal human soul is meant to feel like? Two days ago, the energy seemed so familiar. Now it feels far more alien. Yet it stirs old memories, too. Like seeing a childhood friend for the first time in years. They've grown and changed, but somehow, you always knew this was the person they were supposed to be.

Frisk soundlessly slips to the floor, gaze fixed on the miserable child in front of them. They would feel safer if they _couldn't_ read exactly what Chara was feeling. They'd feel better if the ex-demon would act like one. But for once, they look completely and utterly human. And it's scarier than all their other forms combined.

"I'm sick of this," Chara says. Something heavy seems to settle on their shoulders. Something weighs them down and they can't take another step. They don't even have the strength to reach for the door handle.

Carefully, Asriel approaches.

"Chara ..." His voice breaks and turns to a hitched breath halfway through the name. "You _killed_ me. Over and over ... I don't know how many times."

"But I brought you back. I brought everyone back." Chara's hands ball into white-knuckled fists at their sides.

At first, Frisk thinks the wave of fear washing over them is their own. That they're scared of Chara. Then they realize that the emotion isn't coming from their own soul at all. Maybe it never did.

"I don't want to be here anymore." The little human's voice is thick and wavering, and it takes all of their strength to keep it audible.

Asriel swallows the knot in his throat. Steadies himself. "You... You want to go back? To the Underground?" He tries so very hard to sound patient. Safe. Like he isn't hurting, too. He tries to sound like Toriel. "You want to be a spirit again?"

The burden is too heavy. Chara caves under the pressure. They sit on the floor, hugging their knees to their chest, burying their face in their arms.

"I don't want to be _anything._ "

A dreary silence settles into the room. Things would've been easier if neither of their friends knew what it was like. If they couldn't remember how much it hurts. Asriel closes his eyes, trying to hold onto his calm. Suddenly exhausted, as though last night's missed sleep decided to gang up on them all at once, Frisk sits back on the edge of the bed,

"It's not supposed to be like this," Chara whispers into the fabric of their shirt sleeves. "We're supposed to be long gone. We're supposed to be dead."

Frisk doesn't notice the tears leaking out of their own eyes before little wet spots appear on the knees of their pyjama bottoms. They quickly wipe their face before the others see.

"I should've left when I had the chance. I don't know why I stayed. I should've gone with you." Chara lifts their head just slightly. "Do you remember what it's like? Do you remember where souls go when they die?"

Asriel shakes his head, even though Chara has their back to him. Monster essences don't move on with their souls. They're bound to this world. If Chara left, they'd never see each other again.

A shudder runs through the little human's body. They hide their face in their arms again. "I want to go there."

Though their limbs are heavy, Frisk stands up. Moves over to Chara, sits next to them. Forces themself to breathe deeply. "We'll go there someday," they say. They fold their hands in their lap. "B-but we've still got work to do here. We still need to take care of mom and dad, and Papyrus and Undyne and everyone else. There's still puzzles we need to solve and spider muffins we have to try to not think too hard about. We still have a bunch left to do. We'll have to leave eventually anyway, we might as well see what's here before we go, right?"

"You don't need me for any of that."

Asriel sits down on their other side. "Maybe Frisk doesn't. But I do. I'm a crybaby, remember? Who's gonna beat up all the bad guys for me if you're not around?"

"And here I thought you were scared of me."

"Maybe a little," Asriel says. "You were pretty scary when you first came back as a ghost. I really didn't wanna die again." He mimics Chara's position, leaning his arms on his knees, chin on his arms. "But I kind of missed you more than anyone else and I'm just really happy to see you, so." He shrugs a bit, blinking tears away before they happen at all. "I hope you don't mind me staying with you for a bit. Until you find out what you wanna do." He presses his lips tightly together, as if to stop himself from apologizing.

Chara takes a deep breath and a little bit of tension leaves their shoulders. "It's all so messed up," they mutter. "We're not supposed to be here. I can't believe I thought I wanted this. To see the surface again. To be with everyone again." Maybe in the end, they just really wanted to be Frisk. Alive and okay, with friends who loved them unconditionally. No enemies, no regrets. No one ever suspecting that they might off their friends or watch their adoptive sibling die without a second thought.

They wouldn't. They _wouldn't._

"You're going to want that again someday," Frisk says, lowering their voice to match their friend's volume. Something in their tone tells Chara that they're speaking from experience. "I know it's tough. Being human again. It's really, really tough. It's been six months and I still... I still forget that things are permanent, sometimes. That I'll still remember everything about yesterday and that  time keeps moving, while I try to keep up. That was one good thing about all those resets, I think. I wasn't so tired all the time. All that fear and sadness just kind of disappeared every time I woke up in that flower patch. Like my whole life was just a bad dream that couldn't really hurt me."

"But it did hurt you," Chara scoffs. They lift their head just enough to glare at Frisk through their bangs. "Just look at you now. Clinging to me like your life depends on it. Turning on your real friends because you're too spineless to defy me. Because you're scared of being alone in your own head again."

"Mm-hmm. Right," Frisk interrupts their little monologue. They dare to crack a small smile at their friend and pat them on the shoulder. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, Char'."

Asriel gives a tiny little giggle. Chara turns their withering glare on him instead, but only for a second, before they turn their attention back to Frisk.

"I ruined your life," they retort. "If I were you, I'd hate me."

"What good would hating you do? It's not like it's gonna stop you if you wanna hurt anyone again."

"It might keep you out of harm's way." Their voice dips into the venomously sugary tone they once used to talk Frisk into letting them into their head. It's probably supposed to remind Frisk who they're dealing with, it's probably supposed to be menacing and flashback-inducing, but in this context, seeing that voice come out of this angry, broken little human, it kind of sounds like they're trying too hard. Like a kid on a playground mimicking their favorite supervillain.

It reminds Frisk of Flowey. They shake their head. "If you wanted to hurt us, nothing could stop you from trying. It doesn't matter what we do. The choice is always gonna be yours. Can't we at least try to be your friends?" They lay their hand on the floor in the space between themself and Chara, palm facing upwards. "Please?"

Chara recoils at the gesture, face contorting in the kind of confusion that isn't entirely genuine, the kind that's more like... deliberate denial or something. They look at Asriel again. He smiles and mimics Frisk's gesture.

"You're gonna get yourselves killed someday," Chara says, genuine worry seeping through the cracks in their cold facade. They can't believe the others are still be so naive after everything they've been through together. If they really think Chara's still a threat, they should be scared, they should hate them, they should-! Chara shakes their head, the movement so small it nearly looks like a shiver. "How's it even ... _possible_ to be this dense?"

Frisk's smile grows into a bright flash of white teeth, and with absolute confidence they reply: "I'm nine years old!", as if that clears the whole mystery right up.

Asriel lifts his free paw, nodding enthusiastically. "I'm ten!"

"We're eleven!" Chara snaps at Asriel. "Both of our birthdays are next month!"

Frisk actually bursts out laughing at that and they hide their face in their hands, while Asriel tells them not to laugh, it's a valid point! They really are eleven, almost! Or, well, maybe they're technically 111 years old, if you count their whole undead phase, but if you don't, then- he keeps mumbling away about whether or not it counts, while Frisk giggles a mix of despair and relief into their palms. They're a mess, all three of them.

Chara squeezes the bridge of their nose and closes their eyes. They're not entirely sure why people do that when they're exasperated, but the movement just really speaks to them right now. Still, they have to press their lips tightly together to kill the smile trying to claw its way to their face. "You're both hopeless." Someday, they're gonna get themselves killed with that attitude. Someday, someone else is gonna come along, someone who genuinely means them harm, someone they have actual reason to fear. Someone who isn't Chara. And that someone is going to break them.

Maybe.

Unless... Chara's there to watch over them. And protect them. Like they used to be.

What a notion that is. What a future it would be.

What a future it would be.

When the king arrives, he doesn't look happy. There are lines in his face and a mess of gray, dulled confusion in his eyes, as though someone had hit him and had yet to tell him why they would do such a thing. He requests to see his children, but he appears to have to concentrate to pronounce the words right, like he's speaking a language he doesn't fully comprehend. Toriel, for once looking at her ex-husband with nothing but softness and empathy, leads him to the room out back, through the door and down the stairs.

In the basement, King Asgore finds three kids laughing, smiling, holding hands. When the red-haired human looks up at him, he could have sworn he saw the glimmer of dried tears on their flushed face, but then they give him a hug, the kind of hug that says 'I knew we'd meet again' and 'I feared we never would' all at the same time, and he allows himself to forget. Just for a little while. Forget that not everything is perfect, forget that the last 100 years haven't been undone, that he's not waking up from a bad dream. It feels like he is. It feels like he has finally woken up.

Frisk leaves Asriel and Chara to hug their dad, and goes to stand with Toriel by the door. There's a look on her face that Frisk can't quite place, but it's happy. It's definitely some kind of happy. Absentmindedly, the old queen brushes her hand over Frisk's hair. They lean against her.

Chara looks over Asgore's shoulder, arms still wrapped around his neck, and catches Frisk's gaze. Their red eyes are gleaming much too brightly in the artificially lit room, as though something about them still isn't quite human, isn't quite healed. But there's no malice there, no crookedness in their gleeful little grin, nothing sinister shining through their once again mask-like features.

If anything, there's gratitude. Frisk can live with gratitude.

 

***

Asgore isn't nearly as skeptical about the subject of multiple timelines and resets and reloads as he probably should be. Though Toriel had attempted to explain the circumstances of their children's rebirth on the phone, he asks her and the kids to explain the issue one more time, and as they do, the five of them gathered in the living room,  something seems to dawn on him. He nods, concentration on his face, scratching his beard in thought. Frisk is certain that they see something like remembrance in his expression and they wonder just how much the old king knows about the Underground's timeline issues.

They still remember the look on his face when they tried to reason with him during their fight so long ago. When they tried to tell him how many times he'd killed them before. He never seemed surprised.

Should they ask him about it or let it rest?

Before they can make a choice, the subject is dropped. Asgore looks between his kids sitting on either side of him.

"But regardless, you can promise me that you are alright now?" he asks, his massive paws large enough to easily cover the little ones' backs as he draws them closer in order to look at them properly. "How are you feeling? You must have been ... so scared." His eyes water at the mere thought, the blue in them shining like the surface of the sea.

Asriel reaches up and hugs his father again, burying his face in the golden fur of his mane. "We're okay now," he says for the hundredth time. "You don't have to worry."

Asgore holds the smaller monster like he's afraid the little one will break under his touch. "I am so ... so sorry I wasn't there to save you. I am so sorry. If only I had known ..."

"Buuut you didn't," Chara cuts him off, their tone soft and airy. "And there's nothing you can do to change that now." They brush a tear from his cheek with the back of their hand. "Please don't worry about it, dad."

"In some timelines, you _did_ know," Asriel elaborates and pulls away so Asgore can see that he's being serious. "But there was still nothing you could do. Same thing with mom! It was better you didn't know. Until now, I mean."

He looks to Chara for approval. They nod, satisfied with his explanation.

"This is the golden path," they add. "The one timeline where things have worked out for the better."

Asgore wants to believe them. He really, really wants to believe them. He hangs his head and heaves a deep sigh, trying to banish the thickness from his voice and the tears from his eyes. Then he looks up, looks at Toriel, at wit's end. "What do we do now?"

Frisk tilts their head back to look at her as well, leaned up against her side. The ex-queen sitting across from Asgore absentmindedly cards her fingers through her child's hair, untangling the little knots that formed as they slept. Frisk leans into her touch like a drowsy kitten.

"I am not sure," she says. "For the time being, Asriel and Chara need to stay close to the lab in case of complications. Asriel had an episode just last night. We cannot risk bringing either of them too far away from their chambers just yet."

"Of course," he replies, though he seems to be talking to himself more than he's talking to Toriel. "Of course, that is a given."

Toriel adjusts her position so Frisk has a little more elbow room. "I suppose in due time we will have to inform the people that their princes have returned. However, I would suggest we leave out as many details as possible concerning the fractured timelines. There is no need to cause more panic than absolutely necessary."

"We will tell them that our children turned out to be ... not ... quite gone." Asgore coughs a bit, trying to ward off another bout of tears at the thought, and quickly moves on. "And that their lingering presences were disrupting the laws of reality. We brought them back in order to set things right. No one has anything to fear, it is only ... a precaution."

"A precaution," Toriel echoes as though tasting the word for herself.

It's no lie. They've been here for six months without a single reset. But still, keeping their people in the dark about the severity of the situation seems wrong. Knowing that the lives of their friends, their colleagues, their students, the lives of everyone they know, have been hanging in the balance for so long is a heavy secret to carry.

"How have things been on the surface, anyway?" Chara asks. "I'm not seeing any mushroom clouds on the horizon, so ..."

Before Toriel can wonder out loud what a 'mushroom cloud' is, Frisk jumps in to assist her.

"It's been pretty great. The humans are playing nice, don't worry, I'm a really good ambassador!"

Asgore beams at the little human, pure pride eclipsing his fears, and for the first time since he arrived, there isn't a trace of hesitation or worry in his voice when he speaks. "The best ambassador we could possibly wish for."

Chara seems to take in their father's words for a moment. Then they smile a tiny little half-smile at Frisk, chin raised, as though they expected nothing less of their old partner in crime. Frisk looks about ready to burst with pride at their family's approval. They've done well. They've done really well. They're proud of themself.

"Wait a minute!" Asriel sits up suddenly, ears pricked. "Chara, we haven't even seen the surface yet!"

The mild contentment drains from Chara's expression. They raise their brows, eyes droopy with immediate boredom, and they point over their shoulder with a thumb. "Asriel, might I introduce you to a fresh new invention I like to refer to as 'the window'?"

Toriel unsuccessfully tries to smother her laughter in her paw. Asriel doesn't even try to hide his.

"No, come on!" he says. "You know what I mean!"

"It's winter and it's cold and I don't wanna," Chara groans, slumping against Asgore's side. Asgore rubs their shoulder in sympathy.

Frisk shows nothing of the sort. They jump up off the couch. "No, it's not, it's autumn!" They tug on Toriel's fur, giving her the shiniest puppy eyes they can muster. "Pleeaaase, can we show them the outside? They haven't seen the sky in a hundred years!"

"Patience, my dear," Toriel replies, taking their hands in her own. "We cannot afford to rush things now. We must be careful, do you understand?"

"We won't go far!" Asriel chimes in, moving to stand at her other side, jumping on the spot. "We'll just go in the garden, we won't be long!"

Toriel isn't comfortable with the idea at all, but her little ones are so excited, it's difficult to deny them something so small. She still remembers how happy she was to see the sun again after her many, many years underground. She and Asgore agree that it probably wouldn't hurt to take a look outside, just for a few minutes - but the kids have to borrow their parents' coats, she tells them.

Chara seems reluctant. "It probably looks the same as it always has," they mumble, as they fold the sleeves on Toriel's coat, freeing their hands.

Frisk shakes their head. "It's better." They button Chara's coat for them. "Much better."

Outside the sky is gray, the sun a dull silver sphere behind the heavy cloud curtain, and though the wind is gentle, it puts little icy needles in uncovered skin and makes eyes water. Trees sigh out dead leaves and let their dark, webbed branches face the cold air uncovered. Flowers go to sleep in the soil.

Though his eyes shine brighter than anything here, Asriel looks at the dead surface world with pure wonder on his face. He tilts his head back to look at the swirling clouds above, seeing symbols and landscapes and animals in the muddled shapes. He spins around to take it all in and the wind catches in his ears and fur. He faces it head on, breathing in the frost and the scent of rotten plants.

He's been here before. But it was so long ago. Another life.

Chara follows him into the gray world, pulling Toriel's massive coat closer around themself. For them, it doesn't feel quite so long ago. They remember the stinging frost air, the cloud cover hiding the blue sky. They don't waste their attention on the dying autumn world. All Chara sees is Asriel. Smiling, laughing, hands clasped, a splash of bright, saturated color in the monotone.

Raindrops. Few at first, landing in their hair, on their nose, their cheeks, dripping like borrowed tears. Then the sky opens up and the water comes crashing down in strings of ice cold beads.

Chara raises their head and closes their eyes, letting the rain wash over them, hair clinging to their forehead, teeth rattling. They suppose it's calming, in a way.

Asriel laughs and brushes wet fur out of his eyes. He runs back to his friend and takes them by the hand. "Come on, Chara!"

Toriel watches from the doorway, worry drawing tense lines in her features. It's so cold out. What if they get sick? They could catch their second deaths out there. She looks up at Asgore, who watches their children with much more calm.

"We should call them back inside," she says. "It's not safe for them out there."

Asgore gives her a patient smile, sympathy in his warm eyes. "Give them a little more time. They have missed out on so much."

He lifts his gaze back to his children spinning around hand in hand in the icy rain, nearly tripping in their parents' enormous coats, their laughter lighting up just a small area in the vast autumn world. Asriel accidentally steps in the folds of his coat and stumbles forward. Chara catches him and helps him find his balance, grinning from ear to ear.

Toriel feels something gently push her to the side with a low 'excuse me.' Frisk runs past her and heads into the rain, unfolding a dark blue umbrella. It must be Sans'.

Asriel and Chara quickly huddle under the umbrella. Asriel shakes the water from his fur, ignoring the others' shouts of _'ugh, gross!'_ and _'you're not a dog, dude, cut it out!'_

Frisk shivers in the cold, wrapping their arms tightly around themself. Chara unbuttons their coat and offers half of it to their sibling. It's easily big enough to fit both of the little humans.

Finally, Toriel insists that the three of them get out of the rain. Frisk suggests that they all go back to theirs and Toriel's house, so Asriel and Chara can borrow a clean change of clothes. Sans and Alphys reluctantly give them the go-ahead. Toriel and Asgore borrow another umbrella each, though they aren't much use to the enormous monsters.

As the five of them cross the circular road of the cul-de-sac, the grayness of the world seems to lighten just a bit. Muffet watches them from a window in her house next to Toriel's, affectionately petting a little spider curled up in one of her many hands. Dogs bark from inside the house next to Sans and Papyrus'. Monster Kid runs down the road leading to the cul-de-sac, barely managing to catch their balance before they slip on the wet pavement. They hurry inside the nearest house.

"Ugh, mom, I am NOT a BABY!!" sounds a cross, squawky voice from the house next to Alphys and Undyne's. A familiar blue-feathered teen shuffles into the rain, a lunch box under his wing, a raincoat tied around his shoulders.

An amorphous gray serpentine slithers out of the door. Then it rises into a vaguely humanoid shape and reaches out with mitten-like hands, smoothing down the teen's feather crest, putting a band around his lunchbox to keep it shut properly, sticking a pink umbrella under his free wing.

"Mom," he says, sending a stern glare at the spot the other monster's face probably should've been in, if it had had one. "Stop."

The shapeshifter reluctantly lets its many arms sink back into its body. It sighs. Then it twists its features into a familiar bird-like shape. She runs her beak over her son's head affectionately.

Though he looks embarrassed, he can't help but smile. "I love you too, mom."

Then she's gone. Melted back into the serpentine form. It circles around Snowy once, twice, before slithering back inside the house.

He waves at Frisk as he passes their little group, nearly dropping his lunchbox, and heads for the cul-de-sac's exit. Chara's eyes follow him. Then they look back at the closed front door where the Snowdrake's mom's amalgamate disappeared.

Hmm.

Toriel pushes open the small iron gate leading into hers and Frisk's garden. The kids hurry down the small path to the door and Frisk lets them in. They hang their parents' coats on the hall tree by the door and leave the umbrella to dry in the corner.

The house isn't very big, Chara notes, not compared to the one in New Home. Just a small kitchen next to the front door that kind of fades into a cozy little living room. They could get used to this. They wonder if they'll get to live here someday. They hope there's room for them.

Frisk tugs on their friends' sleeves. "Come on, I'll show you my room!"

Asgore watches his kids disappear down a corridor to the left of the living room, looking very much like he'd prefer not to let them out of sight just yet. He and Toriel look to one another. They can't keep their children from wandering off on their own, much as they would like to. They have to think about what the little ones need. And right now, Asriel and Chara need to feel like kids again.

"Woah," Asriel says, jaw dropping as he looks around Frisk's room. "Frisk, you _live_ in this?"

Frisk looks about ready to burst with pride, stepping over a few pillows scattered on the floor. They pick them up and carefully place them back on the pillow fort currently hoisted over the only lamp in the room. They step back to take in the effect. Then they push the little green pillow an inch to the right. Perfect.

"Mom never let us have our room this messy," Asriel continues, making sure not to step on a tiny landscape of plastic dinosaurs and robots seemingly abandoned in the middle of a dramatic battle scene on the floor to the right of the door. Judging by the brontosaurus and the iPod kissing on the sidelines, it appears to be an adaption of _Romeo and Juliet._ Asriel makes his way to the foot of Frisk's bed, where he sits down to avoid accidentally standing on anything. Still, there's a weird bump under the covers. He moves over and manages to extract a tiny, tattered, one-eyed teddy bear the size of his fist. He wiggles its little arm and smiles at it.

Chara leans on the door, hands folded behind their back, not ready to brave the small jungle if they can help it. They look around at the walls. They're as messy as the floor - MTT posters, plastic bugs in display cases, a shelf lined entirely with rocks of various strange shapes, all covered in sprinkles... The wall above Frisk's bed is a mess of photos with their found family, their friends, their classmates, everyone. Chara notes that they're all monsters. There's not a single human to be found in any of the pictures aside from Frisk themself.

Meanwhile, Frisk is in the process of burying their entire upper body in the big closet near the head of the bed. They drag a few crumpled-up pairs of shirts - all striped, naturally - out of the bottom of it, like a dog digging up dirt. Before Chara can react, the world goes dark as two pieces of clothe fall on their head. They pull the pieces off. An orange shirt with a wide yellow stripe across the middle, black jeans. Seems fair enough. Frisk tosses a sweater at Asriel, who's better prepared. It's large and blue with thin cyan stripes, and it looks like it'd be around five sizes too big on frisk, three too big on Asriel.

Frisk shrugs a bit. "Sorry. You're kinda poofy compared to us."

Asriel pulls his old shirt off and practically swims into the sweater, disappearing into the endless amounts of blue. "No, no, this is okay." He folds the sleeves up to free his hands, spitting a bit to get the high collar out of his mouth, before pulling it down properly. It's warm, and with his fur protecting him, it doesn't itch. He hugs himself, sinking his nose into the collar. "It's like I'm wearing a tent!"

Frisk laughs and scurries onto the bed next to him. They crawl under the rim of the shirt and a second later, their head pops out at the top of it next to Asriel's. There's more than enough room for both of them. Asriel squeals as Frisk sticks an arm through one of the sleeves, waving Asriel's hand at Chara.

" _Come join the fun,_ " Frisk hisses in their best Memoryhead voice.

Chara adjusts the folds of their new shirt and grimaces, trying hard not to laugh. "I'll give you 5G if you go tell mom and dad you're fused together."

"Let's do it," Frisk whispers, trying to worm their way off the bed. It's possible they might be kidding.

Asriel resists, flopping his arm around to regain control of his sleeve. " _Cha-ra!_ " he whines. "You don't even have 5G!"

"Hmm. I guess not." Chara thinks the situation over for a moment, sitting on the floor and watching the other two struggling for control over the sweater. "Hey Azzy, can I borrow 5G?"

Asriel pauses for a moment and, completely out of habit, says "Sure!"

Frisk stops as well, exchanging a glance with Chara.

"Wait."

Both laugh until they're fighting to regain their breath, Frisk as loud as their little crow voice will let them, Chara muffling their laughter in their folded arms leaned on their knees, while Asriel tries to tell them that _it's not funny, guys, stop laughing at me!_

Frisk pulls their arm free of the sleeve and hugs Asriel under the sweater, leaning their head on his shoulder. He crosses his arms in defiance, the long sweater sleeves bundling up by the insides of his elbows, but he's smiling too now, even though he's trying his hardest not to.

Neither of them notice when Chara's laughter quiets down, when their expression softens to something a little nicer, a little sadder, gaze resting on the kids sharing the massive shirt. When Frisk looks up at them, still leaning on Asriel, they catch a glimpse of something on the other's face that they can't quite read. Whatever it is, it doesn't make them uneasy, the way Chara's split-second expressions usually do.

Chara meets Frisk's eyes with a steady gaze. 'Quit while you're ahead', Sans had told them. An 'opportunity', he'd called it. Chara hadn't wanted to listen at the time, they were cornered, terrified, and the only thing they knew they wanted in this new life was to ruin their warden and take everything away from him again if it was the last thing they did. In this moment, though ... It doesn't seem all that important. Someone missed them. Two someones had missed them. Four, counting their parents. And though they may not trust Chara, they still stand by them. They still want them around. They care about them.

Chara brushes their fingers over the shape of the locket under the fabric of their shirt. "Hey. Asriel."

Asriel looks up, tilting his head.

After a moment's hesitation, they reach under the front of the shirt, bringing the little gold heart into view. "... Remember this?"

The monster child's expression falls, recognition clear on his face. Then he looks at Frisk, unsure. Frisk takes out their own timeline's version of the locket. They still have it too.

"Of course," Asriel says, looking between both of them. He fumbles with the sweater for a moment, before bringing out his own matching one.

Chara nods, studying the swirls and patterns in the warm, reflective metal. They thought so. "Maybe... maybe we shouldn't tell mom and dad. About all that stuff we did, I mean."

Asriel watches Chara in turn. The little embers of something not-quite-human still lingering in their otherwise dull eyes. The permanent slouch in their shoulders that isn't quite as defeated as he remembers it. Their still-wet hair clinging to their forehead, dark with rainwater, and the purple-green-white patterns under their still-freezing skin. This... isn't the life they left behind. It's a new time, a new chance. He leans his head against Frisk's, curling up a little more under the tiny blue tent. No one has to know. It's in the past. It will be easier if they just try to forget.

"It feels like it was yesterday," Chara says, voice nearly falling to a whisper.

"I guess..." Asriel sighs, hanging the locket back where it belongs. "... to us, it almost was."

When the three of them leave Frisk's room, they hear voices from down the small corridor. They're coming from the living room. Frisk turns around and quickly shushes their siblings. Slowly, the three of them tiptoe over the smooth oak floorboards. At the halfway point, Frisk holds a hand up, gesturing for the others to stop, before pointing at one of the wooden planks under their feet and drawing a vertical line across their neck with their other hand. Obediently, Asriel and Chara avoid stepping on that particular floorboard. Frisk is going to have to explain their theory that the plank is actually some type of monster in disguise - 'cause it always creaks at the most inopportune moments - some other day.

"- of course I understand, Toriel, please do not assume that I would be so insensitive."

"I don't know _what_ to expect of you these days." There's a chill in her voice, but it's neither aggressive nor bitter, the way it usually is when she talks to him. "But I do appreciate the respect you've shown me during these past few months. I would have expected you to be far more pathetic in your attempts to reconcile with me. It would have been much more in line with your previous behavior."

Asriel shrinks, hiding behind Chara at the back of the little group as the three of them press up against the wall near the corridor's end, just out of sight of the king and the ex-queen in the living room.

There's a pause in the conversation. For a moment, Frisk worries that their parents have heard them. But then Toriel speaks again, more softly this time.

"... And of course I won't keep you from seeing our kids," she says. "I know as well as you what it is like to be apart from them. I would not wish that level of torture on my worst enemy. Should Asriel and Chara eventually become stable and capable of leaving the lab for good, I shall give them the option to live with you, if they so desire. I cannot let my anger with you cloud my judgment when it comes to my children, much as I would like to. You may be a terrible king, but you have always been an adequate father, and god knows they need you now more than ever."

She sounds ... older, Frisk thinks. Weary. Maybe she's just tired. She did stay up all night watching over the three of them.

"Thank you, Tori," Asgore replies, and he may or may not be on the verge of tears again.

"Don't-"

"I know, I know, I am sorry ..." A deep, shaky sigh steadies his voice. "It is just ... that this all appears to be too good to be true. I do not know whether to celebrate or worry more than ever. I fear so deeply that this is only another tragedy waiting to happen, I ... I do not think I could stand to lose them again. I do not think I could go on without them."

The couch creaks. Footsteps. Toriel's voice sounds further away, nearer to the windows overlooking the backyard.

"You will not have to." The cool breeze in her tone has returned, her words edged into solid ice with the pride and ruthlessness befitting of a former monster queen. "I have decided that we shall not lose them again. If this nonsense about 'timelines' and 'resets' is indeed to be trusted, that means that nothing is permanent. Should luck not be on our side, we will find a way to set things right, even if we have to abuse these loopholes in order to do so. Even death shall not keep me apart from my children, this I can promise you. For as long as I live, nothing on this planet, not in the past, present or future, will take them away from me."

"T-Toriel- Please do not make promises you cannot keep. We do not yet know exactly what we are dealing with, we should-"

"Don't question me, Dreemurr. If there is one thing I can promise you, this is it."

Once in a while, Frisk catches themself wondering why their mother and father have fangs. Did monsters descent from beasts, just like humans did? In this moment, listening to the rasp in Toriel's voice, the noise deep and jagged like a lion's growl, it seems very, very likely.

By contrast, Asgore's voice is low and gentle. "I will do everything in my power to assist you, dear. Everything."

There's a pause in the conversation. Toriel seems satisfied with his response.

"I suppose you will want to stay here for a while?" she says, then.

"If... If you do not mind."

At the back of the little group, Asriel dares to peek past Chara, ears pricked.

"I do not," Toriel sighs. "I understand. And the children will be happy to have you here. You know I cannot pretend to feel the same way, but I also cannot pretend I wouldn't value your help." The fierceness drains from her tone. She sounds so, so tired. "I can tell this is going to be a difficult time for them."

The noise of footsteps sound again, heavier this time, heavier than Toriel's. Asgore's voice joins hers by the windows.

"It will be," he says. "But we will be there for them. And we will protect them. And someday, this will all be but a memory. Let us look forward to that day."

Frisk swears that they hear their mother laughing in relief, or despair, or both, though the sound is barely more than a breath.

"Yes. Let's."

Maybe they should give their parents a moment alone, Frisk decides. They manage to soundlessly herd their friends back through the corridor, over the rebellious floorboard and into their room. They close the door with utmost care.

"Alright then," Chara says. There doesn't seem to be a sequel to that not-statement. They let the mild fear in their tone speak for itself. They really don't wanna defy Toriel. If they hadn't already decided that they should probably stick around for a bit, they'd be scared. When she promises that even death won't keep her apart from her kids, Chara believes her.

Asriel keeps his eyes on the door, nervously loosening the collar of his too-big sweater. Suddenly it isn't nearly as comfortable as it was a moment ago. He knew his parents weren't on the best of terms anymore, but ... it's still hard. He remembers how close they used to be. This reality is really, really different from the one he left behind so long ago.

He tenses when he feels a hand on his arm. He tears his attention away from the door and finds Frisk next to him. They lean up and kiss his forehead. On his other side, Chara almost-gently headbutts him in the shoulder, before slinging an arm around him. At least he's not alone. Not anymore.

Still, he can't help but wonder what lies ahead of them.

"Do you ..." He swallows the dryness in his throat. "... think mom and dad will ever get back together?"

Frisk and Chara look at each other for a moment.

"Well ..." Chara trails off.

Frisk shrugs. "I ... I guess we'll see."

Asriel's smile fades a bit. Neither of them sound all that convinced. He knows he should just be thankful that he gets to be here at all, that he gets a second chance, he shouldn't expect everything to just magically go back to the way it used to be. But it's all so overwhelming.

"Yeah. Guess you're right."

 Slowly, he lifts his arms and closes them around his friends. They can't afford to worry anymore. None of them can.

There's a new existence ahead of them. It's up to them to make the best of it.

 

***

 

When moonless night once again settles over the town, Asriel has no choice but to return to his chamber in the basement.

"I-I'm sorry," Alphys says to him, as she slides the machine's recently-replaced glass barrier aside. "We s-still don't know what- what made you go l-last night, I mean, it- it could've been a nightmare or night terrors, or- m-maybe your subconscious just isn't strong enough to h-hold you together in your sleep, or-"

Asriel tells her that he doesn't mind, he doesn't mind at all, really, he's not sure he'd be able to sleep after what happened last night unless he knows he's safe. Not that he's scared! He just ... feels like being cautious, is all. He wouldn't wanna wake everyone up again anyway, so. It's fine.

Toriel watches form across the hallway, sitting on the edge of Chara's bed. She sighs to herself, folding her hands in her lap. Back in the machine he goes. No more complaints, he doesn't even hesitate. He's so brave, her son. She can't even begin to imagine how brave he must've had to be since he first woke up all alone, trapped within a mind that wasn't quite his own. She still can't get the image out of her head, her poor child wandering the dark Underground all alone, without his mother and father to watch over him, to take care of him. She failed him when he needed her most.

Next to her, Frisk seems to sense her dark thoughts, and they sit a little closer to their mother, hugging her arm. Chara stretches a bit behind her, already curled up under the covers and in the middle of graciously giving one of Alphys' comics another chance. Both kids are in their pyjamas, Frisk having donated another set of clothes to their newly revived sibling. Sans and Papyrus agreed to let Frisk, Toriel and Asgore stay over for now, so they can be with Chara and Asriel. Asgore has already gone to sleep on the couch upstairs.

In the lab across from Chara's room, Alphys presses a few commands into her computer and the white fog fills Asriel's chamber. He catches Toriel's gaze before the white veil hides him away from the rest of the world. Her eyes linger on the spot where he disappeared for a moment longer.

Alphys' do as well. Then she collects her things - documents, flash drives, pink pens with cat-ears - and leaves the lab, letting the door remain open behind her. She lingers by the entrance to Chara's room. "Goodnight."

Toriel tilts her head in acknowledgement. "Goodnight, Alphys."

Frisk waves. Chara turns a page in their comic, half-lidded eyes filled with resigned despair at the horrible storytelling.

Alphys looks at the little family for another moment, as though there's something more she wants to say, but nothing comes out. Then she leaves for the upstairs, where Undyne is waiting for her, ready to go home.

Toriel isn't blind to the scientist's struggles. Neither of the kids' parents were supposed to know about all of this before they were certain that everything would turn out fine. But despite everything, despite every mishap and every tragedy, despite the amalgamates and Asriel's first accidental half-revival, Toriel can't help but trust Alphys. If not to save her kids, then at the very least to do her best. And if her best turns out to not be good enough, Toriel doubts it would take much convincing to obtain her help in researching the exact properties of the reset system and how to use it. Alphys has a healthy amount of interest in her son's continued existence and that pleases Toriel very, very much.

Which reminds her ...

"Chara? Frisk?"

Her kids look up at her, their movement eerily coordinated, as though they were marionettes connected by the same string.

"I need to ask you something."

Frisk lets her arm go and sits back, listening carefully. Chara closes the comic and sets it aside, sitting up a bit, worry lines appearing between their brows. Toriel pauses for a moment as she looks between her little ones, trying to decide the gentlest way of wording her question.

"Last night," she begins, "while the two of you were sleeping ... the strangest thing happened."

Frisk crawls across her lap and sits next to Chara, who moves an inch or two to the side in order to make room for them, seemingly without having to so much as look at their friend to judge the reach of the movement.

"The two of you appeared to communicate in your sleep," Toriel continues. "And though it may merely have been a coincidence that your actions corresponded so perfectly, something tells me that this is not the case. The two of you appear to be very close, though I cannot for the life of me figure out where you could possibly know each other from. The same thing applies to you and Asriel, Frisk."

Frisk cringes a bit. Chara takes their hand, wariness shining through their admittedly-not-very-convincing attempt at a neutral expression. Frisk seems to become aware of the other kid's unease and steels themself, forcing their shoulders down and straightening their back.

None of the wordless conversation does anything to soothe Toriel's nerves. Just how much did she just miss in a few seconds?

Determined, Frisk looks up at their mom. "I-it's true. We do know each other really well. All three of us."

Toriel sits more comfortably on the edge of the bed, listening intently as her child explains.

"I met Chara and Asriel in the Underground. They were the ones who found me after I first fell. They- they took care of me." 'Took care of them.' That's a good way to put it, Frisk thinks. They shouldn't mention how badly the others tricked them at first. How Chara rooted the last shard of their own withered soul in Frisk's mind, how Asriel, poor soulless Asriel, tried to kill them on sight for cheap execution points. Their mother wouldn't understand. "Whenever I got hurt really badly or something went really wrong, Chara turned back time, so I had a second chance to get it right. They watched over me and took care of me, and made sure I was always safe and okay." Their voice grows thin and wobbly under the weight of their lies. Well, they're not _lies,_ exactly, are they? Chara did take care of them. It just ... took a little while before their kindness became genuine. Instead of cold. Selfish. Mocking play-pretend. "They guided me and helped me when I was all alone ..." They try to cough their voice back into existence, but before they can continue, Chara takes over.

"I linked my soul with Frisk's, so I could always help them out if they got hurt," they chirp brightly, their unease gone without a trace. Maybe all they needed was someone to lie for them. Someone to assure their mother that they'd done nothing wrong. Maybe they couldn't bring themself to do so on their own accord.

Frisk wants to think that's the case.

"Like Sans said, I wasn't really myself back then. Asriel wasn't either. But we always cared about this nerd, for some reason." They laugh and bump their forehead against the side of Frisk's cranium. "Didn't we, Frisky?"

Frisk bites down on their tongue, pointedly ignoring the gleaming eyes watching them with false mirth. They nod, a little more frantically than intended.

Toriel watches them much more skeptically than Frisk wants to think about. Why can't she just be happy? Touched, even? That's what Chara is hoping for, Frisk can sense it. Can't she just play along, so they can forget this isn't the whole truth? They don't want to think about what happened before. Chara is here now, Asriel is here now, everything will be alright, if only their mom can find it in herself to play along and not question why the little demon's glittering grin still makes their ex-host's stomach turn.

Frisk wants their not-twin to _smile._ Not this. Whatever this is.

It's fear, probably. A defense mechanism of some kind. A mask to hide the dread.

Doesn't make it any less creepy.

"You were in touch with your siblings all this time," Toriel interrupts, forcing softness into her words as she addresses Frisk, "and you never thought to mention that they were still around?" Frisk doesn't take confrontations well. She knows this. She can't afford to scare them. But keeping her voice steady is growing difficult.

"They're sorry!" Chara says quickly, so Frisk doesn't have to. "We were still dead, technically. They just didn't want to break your heart all over again. We didn't think we'd ever come back, Azzy and me."

"Please don't be mad," Frisk whimpers.

Toriel lays her fingertips under the little one's chin and gently, so, so gently, tilts their face up, so she can look them in the eyes. "My child," she says seriously, "I am in no way angry with you. I am only disappointed that you kept such a terrible secret from me without considering that I might have been able to help all three of you. You do not have to carry such burdens on your own. And neither do they. If ever you get into trouble like this again, I want you to tell me. I am your mother and I should be the one protecting you, not the other way around. Do you understand?"

Frisk lays their little hands on her paw and nods.

Chara's smile grows a little stiff. Well, stiffer. "Did we not just establish that me and Asriel tried to _help_ Frisk?"

Toriel turns her warm smile to them instead. "Of course, dear." There isn't a trace of impatience in her dismissive response.

Chara watches her with slight suspicion as she stands up and brushes the fabric of her dress into place. They don't seem to notice how obvious their own annoyance is, but Toriel pays it no mind.

Frisk squeezes Chara's hand and wraps their other arm around their friend's shoulders in a one-armed hug, nuzzling their forehead into the space between the other child's neck and shoulder in what they hope translates to silent gratitude. They're happy Chara at least tried to go along with Frisk's story, even if Toriel doesn't seem entirely convinced that she has heard the whole truth yet. The gesture manages to wrench a real smile out of Chara and they playfully blow a short breath of air into their kid sibling's face.

"Ew," Frisk whines and yanks their head back, covering their nose with their pyjama sleeve. "Your breath smells like wet Greater Dog."

"Day three without a toothbrush, bro."

Disgusted, Frisk pulls their other hand away too. "Don't 'bro' me, pal!"

Chara makes a point of leaning closer while they talk. "Don't 'pal' me, comrade!"

Toriel mumbles about what a terrible mother she is and wonders if it's too late to go buy her kid a toothbrush at this hour. It, uh ... it probably is. Frisk crawls backwards out of the bed trying to escape Chara and their gross teeth, and absentmindedly pats their mom on the elbow to comfort her. It seems to snap her out of her train of thought and she shakes her head at her own skewered priorities. Right, right, she was about to say goodnight to her kids.

Chara slides back down on their pillow and lets Toriel tuck them in. She's about to kiss them goodnight when she remembers that wait, no, Chara never did like that, so she briefly brushes her nose over their cheek in a kind of substitute monster-kiss. Chara's permanent blush deepens and they wiggle a bit under the covers, getting comfortable with all the self-satisfied giddiness of a sleepy housecat. Frisk realizes that they must have missed this. Having someone take care of them.

"'night, mom."

"Goodnight, my little one," Toriel says. "Sleep tight."

"See you tomorrow, okay?" Frisk adds. Then they follow Toriel out the door. Before closing it behind them, they sneak a glance over their shoulder. Chara's eyes are already closed. They look peaceful. Maybe they'll finally get a full night's sleep.

Hanging onto that thought, Frisk gives them a little nod in acknowledgement and closes the door behind themself.

They pause in front of the door to the room Asriel had been confined to last night. The dust has been cleared away, presumably returned to its owner overnight. Toriel is meant to sleep there now, so she can be close to her little ones. How much sleep she's actually going to get is a bit questionable, in Frisk's opinion, but if their mother at least gets to rest for a while, maybe that's okay, too.

"Are you sure you will be alright upstairs by yourself?" she asks, crouching so she's level with Frisk.

"'m fine," they reply. "Dad's up there with me."

"He certainly is." Toriel rolls her eyes, but her tone isn't at all mean-spirited. An earthquake wouldn't wake the old king right now, she's certain, but Frisk doesn't need to know that. "And if you need anything, do not be afraid to tell him. You know the old fool adores you as much as I do."

Frisk joins her with their hoarse little giggle and leans up to hug her goodnight. If the hug lasts a little longer than usual, she doesn't comment on it. Frisk realizes that they feel alright. This is okay. They may not be able to tell their parents or anyone else about what them and their siblings really went through - what they put each other through - but it's going to be alright. Their mom and dad will look after them, and they'll look after Chara and Asriel, and Chara and Asriel, well ... it looks like they're going to look after each other. Even after all this time.

Things are finally looking up.

Toriel lets them go and stands up, though not before placing a kiss on their forehead. "Goodnight, Frisk."

"Goodnight."

Frisk heads for the stairs. But they don't hear Toriel's door close behind her. They turn around. She's lingering in the doorway, eyes narrowed in thought. Then she looks back to her child.

"My child?"

"Yes, mom?"

"There's nothing you want to tell me, is there?" she asks, clicking her claws against the door handle in a thoughtful rhythm. "About Asriel and Chara? You haven't left anything out of your explanation, have you?"

Frisk looks up at her for another moment. Then they shake their head. It's better this way.

Toriel doesn't move. Not at first. Then her gaze falls to the floor. "I thought not," she says then, though she still doesn't sound entirely convinced. Then she looks back at her kid again. "But if there's anything else you need to tell me, anything at all, please, _please_ do not hesitate. I am here for you. Please do not forget this."

"I won't. Thanks, mom."

"I am proud of you, Frisk."

Upstairs, the lights are out. Yellow light filters through the curtains from the street lamps outside. On bare feet, Frisk tiptoes over the cold floorboards and heads for the living room where they left their bag. They don't bother to turn on the light. Frisk never was scared of the dark. They always kind of assumed that whatever hid in the dark was as blind to them as they were to it. These days, there's a bigger chance that whatever's huddled there is just another monster looking for a place to rest for the night anyway. It's as welcome here as Frisk is.

They hear their father before they see him in the gloom, his deep-yet-soft breathing confirming that yeah, mom was right, he's sleeping really, really deeply. Frisk pauses in front of the couch area, letting their eyes adjust to the dark. He looks so peaceful, Asgore, his massive frame curled up on the much-too-small couch like a big puppy trying to fit into its old bed, his dark silhouette rising and falling in time with his slow, steady breathing. He looks like the kind of beast who should by all rights snore, like a dragon or a big mountain troll would, but even in his sleep, he makes little noise.

Frisk smiles to themself. They're gonna let him sleep.

After rummaging through their bag for a moment, they find their toothbrush and toothpaste - they wouldn't be caught dead being as gross as Chara, no way - and they leave for the bathroom.

But on their way there, they hear voices.

_"i gotta say, you're, uh ... taking this pretty well. this ain't an easy story to swallow."_

_"BUT I HAVE HEARD IT BEFORE, HAVE I NOT? REALLY, BROTHER, YOU SHOULD KNOW I CAN HANDLE THIS BY NOW."_

The conversation is coming from upstairs. Now, Frisk isn't the type to eavesdrop, Frisk never, ever eavesdrops, but if they did- okay, that's a lie, they're eavesdropping, this is definitely eavesdropping, eavesdropping is currently happening. As quietly as they can, they creep towards the stairs.

_"so you remember? all the other timelines?"_

_"WELL ... NO. BUT I'M CERTAIN IT WILL ALL COME BACK TO ME IN DUE TIME!!"_

There's a short laugh, a bit apologetic. _"sorry, bro, but i wouldn't count on it. when a timeline's saved over, it just kind of disappears. i don't really remember half the things i've been through."_

_"THEN IT IS A GOOD THING YOU'RE NOW ACCOMPANIED BY THE GREATEST PUZZLE SOLVER TO EVER PUZZLE! ME!! TOGETHER WE SHALL SOLVE THIS MYSTERY ONCE AND FOR ALL!! COUNT ON IT!"_

Frisk sits on the first stair step, careful not to make it creak. It's impossible not to listen in. Sans never talks to them about this stuff. So many times he's convinced Frisk that he'll figure this out, they don't have to do anything, he'll get them out of this mess someday, they don't have to worry. But how can they not? For so long, he's been all alone. Frisk wants to help.

Sans laughs again. _"man. i've missed you, pap."_

_"LIKEWISE, BROTHER."_

There's a pause in the conversation. A minute passes. Then another one. Frisk is about to stand up, when Papyrus speaks again.

_"... SANS?"_

_"yeah?"_

_"I DO NOT LIKE BRINGING UP THE FACT THAT YOU LIED TO ME YESTERDAY. BUT YOU LIED TO ME YESTERDAY."_

_"i've done that a lot."_

_"I REALIZE._ "

" _wouldn't matter much if i said 'sorry', would it?_ "

" _NO. BUT FRANKLY, I WOULD EXPECT NO LESS OF YOU. MISGUIDED AS YOU ARE, YOU DID ATTEMPT TO KEEP ME HAPPY, EVEN IF IT WAS BY WAY OF IGNORANCE._ "

" _you're ... not mad that i kept your whole life purpose a secret from you? for actual years?_ "

" _M... MAYBE A LITTLE? BUT THEN I TRY TO PICTURE MYSELF IN YOUR SITUATION AND, WELL ..."_

_"you would've done the same for me."_

_"UNFORTUNATELY."_

_"we're ... not smart people."_

_"IT WAS MORE ENDEARING WHEN WE WEREN'T BURDENED WITH KEEPING THE FABRIC OF TIME AND SPACE INTACT! WE'VE A JOB TO DO!! AN IMPORTANT ONE!!"_

_"maybe you don't need to be smart to do your job well, though."_

_"MAYBE NOT. BUT LET US AT THE VERY LEAST AGREE ON ONE THING."_

_"what?"_

_"NO MORE SECRETS."_

_"no more secrets."_

_"I'M HOLDING YOU TO THIS PROMISE, SANS."_

_"if it's any consolation, i'm prolly too much of a wuss to break it anyway. it's good to have you back, bro."_

Frisk doesn't notice how tired they really are before their head drops back against the stair rail. They sit up properly and shake their head, missing whatever Papyrus said in response. They should get going. The couch next to Asgore's already looked really inviting a few minutes ago, now it seems to actively call out to them.

They only just manage to stagger to their feet before the door to Papyrus' room opens and Sans shuffles out, seemingly in the middle of trying to convince his brother that yes, he'll get up early tomorrow, no, he won't sleep in, no, Pap doesn't have to come get him, he won't embarrass him in front of their guests, okay? Okay, goodnight, bro, see ya tomorrow. Goodnight.

He closes the door behind him, still grinning like his nagging brother is the most precious thing in this world. Then he sees the little human watching him from the floor below.

"hey kiddo," he says and cocks his head to the side, mildly surprised. "you're up late."

"I wanted to stay up and say goodnight to Asriel," Frisk explains, scratching a nail over the lid on their toothpaste. It makes a nice _rack-tack-tack_ sound. Frisk likes that sound. They repeat the motion a couple of times.

Sans nods in understanding. Slowly, he makes his way down the stairs. Across from the stairs, there's a window without the curtains closed, and as he makes it to the ground floor, he steps through the yellow rectangle painted on the floor and looks outside. Frisk follow him, still scratching at the toothpaste lid.

For a moment he just stands there, watching the dark sky with a far-off look on his face. The fact that he came down here at all warns Frisk that something is up. No one just shuffles down the stairs and stands around for a couple minutes in the name of companionable silence. Not even Sans.

"You wanna talk about something, don't you?" Frisk says, wary. "If you're gonna lecture me about Chara again, I'm not gonna listen."

He sighs a low laugh. "nah," he replies with a shrug. "'s not like i can change your mind anyway. just look out for yourself, okay? it ... looks like i won't always be there to look after you anymore. your mom's gonna want 'em to move back home soon." His grin falls a bit. "so just ... be careful, okay?"

Frisk hadn't even really considered that. That they might end up living with Asriel and Chara. Sharing their house, their parents, their life with their old friends. It's not like they haven't pictured it in their head before. How things would've turned out if the others were there with them, like they should've been from the beginning. But now that it might become reality ...

"Are you scared?"

Sans manages to tear his eyes away from the gloomy street outside. He looks at the little human beside him. "scared?"

"Of Chara?" Frisk continues. "Of setting them free?"

He laughs again, but it's forced, and he shifts like he's about to shake his head, shoulders brought up to where his ears should've been. "i don't- frisk, come on, i-"

Frisk moves their dark brown eyes to him again and he freezes under their worried gaze. Sometimes, the little one looks more like a force of nature than a human being, cinders in their murky stare and the echoes of thunder in their frail voice. Sometimes, they really do look a whole lot like the other one. But other times, times like these, it's hard to recall what those moments are like. How there's even room for anger in such a tiny thing when they're already filled to the brim with so much caring, so much worry, so much love.

Sans lets his shoulders fall. "well ..." He manages a real smile, somehow. A tired one, but a real one. "maybe a little." He turns his attention back to the darkness outside. A street light flickers, confusing the frostbitten moths gathered under it. "i just ... don't really feel like watching everyone die again, y'know? i might've kinda gotten used to happy endings, against my better judgment. even if they weren't permanent." The smile grows a little tight. "at least i got to spend time with you. that's something."

Frisk links their arm with his, the same way they did two days ago. Before this whole mess came marching back into their life.

"yeah. you understand."

They lean their head on his shoulder, watching the flickering street light. As though it realizes who's watching it, it stops flickering and the light comes back on. The moths return, relieved.

"You don't have to be scared of them," Frisk says, voice slowed a little by their sleepiness. "They won't do anything as long as I'm around. I won't let them."

"a kid your age shouldn't have to carry all that responsibility on their own."

"A kid my age shouldn't've seen the things I've seen anyway," they counter. There's something dark looming in the cracks in their voice. They yawn into their friend's shoulder. Rub their eyes. "What's an undead sibling hellbent on annihilating all of humankind between friends?"

Sans carefully removes them from his arm and turns them around so they're facing him properly, his hands on their shoulders. "look, frisk, _please_ don't say shit like that. i- _we_ all want you to be happy. okay? this is your happy ending too. you made this ending. let me handle fallen."

Frisk shakes their head. "I never would've gotten as far as I did without Chara. 'sides, when you handle them, you make them hurt. Do you know how much you come to care about a person when you feel their pain for so long?" They strangle another yawn in their sleeve and blink their droopy eyes. "I don't want them to hurt, Sans. I don't."

"then i won't hurt them, okay?" He's lying. "i'll play nice from now on." He's lying, but it's for their own good. "no more fighting."

Frisk tilts their head, eyes narrowed. "Do you promise?"

His grip on their shoulders loosens a little bit. Then he lifts his hands in what's probably supposed to be another easy shrug. "heh." It's just one word. Just say 'yes.' What difference does it make? He's lied through his teeth so far, what's he got left to lose? No one can trust him anymore. Not his brother, not Toriel. Why should things be different with the human? "you know me." The words kind of stumble out against his will. "'m a reliable guy."

"That's not a very convincing answer," Frisk says, wrinkling their nose in a suspicious grimace.

He's about to reply when something goes dark outside. The two of them both turn their attention to the street without really meaning to. It's the street light. It finally gave up trying.

"welp." Sans ruffles the kids hair. "that's uh ... prolly as close to a sign from higher powers as you're gonna get. lights out, kiddo."

He turns to head back up the stairs, but before he can leave, Frisk sneaks their arms around him and pulls him into a hug. For a moment, he forgets what's supposed to come next. Oh. Right. He's supposed to hug back. That's how hugs work. Man, he's out of practice with this stuff.

The kid doesn't deserve this. Doesn't deserve having to deal with him and Fallen. How did someone like them get stuck with someone like him as their only ally in this? It's not fair to them.

"If you hurt Chara ever again," Frisk mumbles into his chest, "I can't promise you I won't take their side."

He leans his head on top of theirs, closes his eyes. Rocks them in his arms. "i know."

"They need me."

"i know."

"I love you."

"you too, buddy."

Sans once promised Frisk they'd get to grow up one day. That he'd make sure of it, whatever it took. Frisk knows how much Sans hates making promises. It meant a lot to them, back then. But of course, that was at least three resets ago. They're not sure if he remembers anymore.

They let each other go and Sans makes his way back up the stairs.

Frisk lingers by the first step. "Sans?"

He turns and looks down at them, eye-lights glittering like little stars in the dark high above. "yeah?"

Frisk looks past him, looks at Papyrus' door. Then they look back to him, unsure. "Are you ever gonna tell me what's really going on?" With time. The time cracks. Him and Papyrus, and ...

His cheshire grin lights up as clearly as his glowing eyes. He seems to consider the question for a moment, blinking slowly at the curious human at the bottom of the stairs. "maybe someday. when i've figured it out myself."

Frisk tries to hide their own amusement with a pout. That wasn't the answer they were looking for, but it is indeed a very Sans-like answer. If anyone knows how to dodge a question, it's him. They should've known.

"go to sleep, kid," he says with a breathy laugh, not unkindly, and turns around again, leaving for his own room down the hallway. "it's way past your bedtime."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of course, the chapter title is a reference to the game's OST "It's Raining Somewhere Else."
> 
> Next up: oneshots. Fluffy ones, angsty ones, multi-chapter-ones-that-aren't-actually-oneshots ... it's gon' be great.
> 
> As always, you're all invited to come talk to me on tumblr (thesketcherlass.tumblr.com). we have gr8 headcanon-centric parties over there, you should join us


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